


How to Explain Pictures to a Dead Hare

by Misterkingdom



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Codependency, Colemance, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3463550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misterkingdom/pseuds/Misterkingdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You love that about me?”</p><p>“Yes but it’s a different kind—“Dorian clicked his tongue before speaking. He does it when the words won’t come. It’s adorable. “Yes, I love that about you.</p><p><i>How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights.</i> “How do you know if you want to make love? Is it the same?”</p><p>Dorian choked on his whiskey. “You can’t be serious.</p><p>"Is it the same when you want to make love?”</p><p>"You will be the death of me.”<br/>*<br/>Cole is human. He doesn't understand his new found aches for soft touches. He turns to Dorian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole smiled. “I want to conquer cities in your honor.”
> 
> Dorian’s laugh startled a few sleeping meadowlarks. “What?
> 
> “You’re smiling.”
> 
> “You give me things to smile about. Maker knows there are few of those left around.”
> 
> “Love is worth smiling about.”
> 
> “Of course”
> 
> The red evening played over Dorian’s features. Cole sighed. “Dorian, how do you know if you’re in love?”

From beyond the screen of bushes which surrounded the polished spring, Dorian sipped dark whiskey from a silver chalice he’d no doubt commandeered from the Inquisitor. He lounged on a hide of a great bear as the bitter, rose tinted wind nuzzled his hair. Shards of sunlight cut through the leaves of a large oak he laid under and weaved a patchwork of shade and light on his honey colored skin. Cole watched the Tevinter Adonis while tangling together a wreath of blush red and virgin white roses. Silence isolated their piece of Eden as the day bled into a wine dark evening.

“The lovers met their demise without their lips ever having touched.” Cole said.

“What are you on about now, Cole?” Dorian sat his book on his lap. “We’re here to read, not chat.”

Cole looked down at his copy of _Watership Down_ before watchingDorian. “The stories in your head are better than the ones on the pages.”

“Ah.”

Redcliffe stood beyond the thin line of the stream. The village stood in the shadow against the dark poles of trees like a charcoal drawing stretched across a paper sky. The flinches of shared memories—a tavern filled with words that cut like daggers—ripple through him. It hurts. Dorian hurts. Cole can’t help. He couldn’t tug it loose without tearing it.

“I made this for you.” Cole held out his wreath for Dorian to see. “For a prince of your own choosing. Not your father’s.”

Dorian scoffed but took the wreath between his thumb and forefinger like he was handling a diamond necklace. “I’m handsome enough to be one but Tevinter doesn’t have princes.” He adorned the crown. He trailed his fingers across the silk petals. “We have shivered old prunes who think they know what’s best for everyone.”

The bright summer colors of the mage’s halo conflict with his midnight hair, golden skin, and winter dark robes. He glowed while the world faded to rust behind him. Cole smiled. “They are pink because it’s the color of his cheeks before he left you. They are white because you learned to forgive and still fight alongside him.”

Dorian lit his pipe with a pinch of his fingers. He took a long drag before blowing saffron smoke signals in Cole’s direction. “I’d rather be under him.”

“You make jokes because you’re afraid. If you take the hurt seriously, it matters— _hold me_. He won’t. He wishes he could.”

“Cole, I do believe its quiet time now.”

“I’m sorry. I keep making it worse.” Cole made quick work of weaving the grass and flowers together. “You need another.”

“No. I’m sorry. It’s just—“Dorian sighed. “You need one, my friend.”

The mage chewed on the edge of his pipe and grasped a tangled of weeds. He roped them together, crumpling the mess of nameless flowers. He inspected his work with a scrunched face. “Well, I can’t be marvelous at everything.”

Cole smiled. “To the world it’s weeds. To the weeds, it’s the world.”

Dorian smirked around his pipe before snuffling it out. “You can’t expect me leave my comfortable position. Come here.”

Cole crawled to the edge of the fur hide. Ripples of memory—a great mother bear standing tall against the hunters that would hurt her. Get to the cave. She didn’t. She now provided Dorian and himself with the warmth meant for her children.

“There is nothing you could have done. Your cubs are fine.”

 “I’m not even going to ask.” Dorian motioned for Cole to hurry.

Cole knelt before him and bowed his head, devout.

Dorian cleared his throat. “I now dub you a member of the inquisition’s newfound arts and crafts faction.” He swept off Cole’s hat. “Goodness, man, you need a hair brush.” He fitted the crown around Cole’s silver-white shag of hair.

“I want to conquer cities in your honor.” Cole said.

Dorian’s laugh startled a few sleeping meadowlarks. “What?”

“You’re smiling.”

“You give me things to smile about. Maker knows there are very few of those left around.”

"Love is worth smiling about.”

“Of course."

The red evening played over Dorian’s features. “Dorian, how do you know if you’re in love?”

“Good question.”

“You and the Inquisitor were in love. How did you know?”

Dorian took a sip of whiskey. His slick tongue trailed over his bottom lip. “It’s difficult to explain. For me it starts with a physical attraction and spreads like a virus to the pit of my stomach. I soon find myself thinking of the little, stupid things they do. I find it adorable.”

“It takes you an hour to do your hair.”

“Yes, things of that nature.” Dorian laughed.  _His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers. His lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh_. “And you ask too many questions.”

“You love that about me?”

“Yes but it’s a different kind—“Dorian clicked his tongue before speaking. He does it when the words won’t come. It’s adorable. “Yes, I love that about you.

 _How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights_. “How do you know if you want to make love? Is it the same?”

Dorian choked on his whiskey. “You can’t be serious.

"Is it the same when you want to make love?”

"You will be the death of me.”

"Intimate things drip from your mouth all the time, Dorian. I wish you would tell me.”

Dorian filled his chalice, this time with wine painted black in the dying light. He rolled the empty bottle onto the grass before turning back to Cole. “Do you even know what making love is?”  
  
“I do.” Cole said. “But is it the same?"

Dorian sighed into his cup. “Yes and no. The thing is Cole, sex can be an intimate meeting of the body and soul or a way to scratch an itch.”

 “The Iron Bull was your scratch. The inquisitor was your soul.”

“A maddeningly astute observation—like always.” Dorian drained the last of his booze. His lips glittered with spilled wine. Cole tilted forward and bumped their lips together. Dorian made a low noise in the back of his throat. He pushed at Cole’s shoulders. Cole moved back and licked his lips which stung with the memory of whiskey. The mage’s eyes were dove black in the lowlight.

“Now what was that?”

“I was curious.”

Dorian sighed and ran his fingers through his own hair. “Cole, you can’t just do that. Others might not react so kindly.”

“You did.”

“Of course I did. I’m well aware of your eccentricities. But a run-of-the-mill chap down at the tavern might have you wearing your guts for garters.”

“I don’t want to kiss them. I want to kiss you.”

Dorian watched him in silence. A newly awakened bird sang three notes. The stream hissed. Cole steeled himself for the scolding. He couldn’t get into Dorian’s head. His newfound humanity dimmed the hurt. He’s blind. His stomach was uneasy. No one told him being real hurt so much.

“Come closer and cup my cheek.”

His stomach clenched with the rush of excitement. He ate the bubbling questions with knives in his stomach. Blackwall said to ‘never look a gift horse in the mouth’. Dorian’s cheeks bones were sharp enough to draw blood. The barest hit of stubble caught on Cole’s fingertips. The mage was hot like the fire he manifested. It hummed under his skin. Dorian’s fingers tangled in Cole’s hair. He was gentle, as if not to break the crown.

“This is what a first kiss should be.” Dorian said. He skimmed Cole’s lips with his. Cole pressed back and Dorian tilted his head to the side. Their tongues touched lightly, sending electricity down Cole’s spine. Dorian pulled back. Cole’s stomach tightened. Being a real boy was ripe with happy, nervous, and sick stomach sensations.

Dorian watched him with a lazy smile. “Did you like that?”

 “Yes.”

Dorian tipped forward to rest his forehead against Cole’s. His sticky skin stuck on Cole’s bangs. Dorian cupped Cole’s cheek and brushed his thumb against Cole’s pulse.

“Then you’re going to love this.” Dorian traced Cole’s lips with the pad of his thumb. Cole’s mouth parted without his permission. He was enchanted. Dorian glided his thumb on the tip of Cole’s tongue. The digit tasted of salt and the pinpricks of wine. Cole moaned when Dorian licked his way past his own fingers and into his mouth. The kiss was rose petal soft, slick, delicate, and hot. Cole was torn apart in the best ways.

Dorian broke the kiss with a slick pop. Cole’s stomach ached. He gripped the back of Dorian’s neck. “I love you.”

“Good.” Dorian’s mouth is a hot wet slide as he whispered into the curve of Cole’s jaw. “I needed that.”

Dorian anchored him down by straddling him. His hardness was pressed against Cole’s abdomen. Cole whined against the mage’s musky heat engulfing him. Dorian’s hips slowly rolled against his. Cole’s eyes fluttered closed against the pleasure. He gripped Dorian’s hips hard enough to bruise and held him down.

“This is getting out of hand.” Dorian never stopped working his hips against Cole’s. He lent down and raked his fingers through Cole’s hair and held. Cole fisted at Dorian’s robe, desperate to touch any hint of skin.

“I want— _I need_ —more.” Cole went on instinct. His head swam. He wanted to hold Dorian down and get relief. He’s predatory, a rush of blood went to his head, demanding something. Something he hadn’t felt in a long while: the relief his murders gave him in the White Spire.

Dorian laughed. He sat back and rid him as if it was a mere taste of what was to come. “You want to lose your innocence here? To me?"

“Yes.”

“In the wild, like an animal?” Dorian took a deep breath, the smile never left his face. “I can tell something is dark about you. You’re the type that’ll have me on my knees.”

“Yes. Anything for you. Don’t stop.” Cole bucked up and made a broken noise. He placed his hand on Dorian’s clenching abdomen. The mage is sticky with sweat, so real against him. The tight pain of lust, love, guilt, and need are all shiny and new. It devoured him. He’ll never be the same.

Dorian grinded down as Cole pushed up. Their moans melted together in the night. “If Solas could see you now.” Dorian hissed when Cole scraped his fingers down his spine. “My, what would he say? His little spirit of compassion, wanting, his cheeks aflame, his cock hard.” Cole whined under him. “And he had such high hopes for you.”

 “Maker—“

“Tell me you want to fuck me.”

“I—“The filthy word stuck on his tongue. “I want to make love to you.”

“Have it your way.” Dorian shouldered off his robe. “But please, do be gentle. I haven’t had another man inside me for a while.”

Cole’s hips snapped up to meet Dorian's. Dorian’s face was half cloaked with night. His lips are shiny, wet, and parted in rushed breath. His hair was a floppy mess, his smile was crooked with the promise of breaking every moral Cole ever had—which was not many. Cole’s body wrung with greediness. He could stay under the sun hot, frim, tight mage until the end of time. He could—

A screech like scraping metal cut through the night. A demon, two demons. Dorian stilled on top of him. He looked off in the direction of the screaming.

“It’s a shade or two.” Dorian mumbled. He climbed off Cole and put on his robe. He grabbed his staff, its white light turned into a beacon in the blackness. Cole stood up. His legs were shaking and his breathing was ragged. He pushed down the sick acid flooding his stomach. His body ached for even one more of Dorian’s fire-hot touches.

Dorian stretched until something popped. Cole unsheathed his daggers.

 “You take the left, I’ll take the right.” Dorian said.

“Yes.”

“And Cole?” Dorian turned to him with a dagger sharp smirk. “If you tell anyone about our indiscretion, you’re going to wish you’d remained in the fade.”

 


	2. Mes Voeux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian places the pipe back into the contraption. "I'm bad for you." 
> 
> "No. You're real. And I want—" _To be real._ "You." 
> 
> "Fancy that." Dorian said. "And imagine this: I whisk you off to my bed and we tango between the sheets. What then? We return to Skyhold and pretend this didn't happen?" 
> 
> "No. I will still want you after. Don't worry." 
> 
> "I'm not worried."
> 
> "You are."
> 
> Dorian rubbed his temples. "I like you, Cole. You listen but don't judge. You offer advice, even though it's mostly insane gibberish. I suppose I'll admit to a certain _Folie à deux_ back in Redcliffe, but I'm comfortable forgetting. We can go back to the way things were."
> 
> "I don't want to forget. You made me real."

_La Demi Lune_ had black curtains beating back the golden sunlight of Val Royeaux. The cafe was empty, except for a gaggle of noblewomen sitting around a small table on dusk colored pillows and drinking black tea. He and Dorian were separated from them by a silk, bronze screen. The candlelight was scarce and soft. It made the other patrons ghost on the walls.

The Shisha breathed thick, lavender smoke causing his lungs to tighten and his eyes to itch. His knees hurt as he kneeled with his back against the twilight colored pillows. The pillows collected on the floor and walls like pebbles on a riverbed. The low ceilings and thin walls hummed with a far off string serenade. He was in a music box. Maybe Dorian would dance with him.

Their servant wore a diamond masked that played off the candlelight, glittering in the gloom. Her silhouette flickered across the paper walls, showcasing a dangerous tilt of hips. Her smile was a switchblade.

Dorian sat before him, lounging against a backdrop of rose pillows. The table between them was short, wooden and stacked with fruits, wines, pastries, and a tall silver vase adorned with multiple pipes. Dorian leaked sickly sweet smoke from his lips. It was a phantom form of a fruit Cole couldn’t name.

Ghosts of fruit. Shadow people. Their desires whispered. He listened. He couldn’t make sense of it all.

Dorian held the wet pipe tip between his fingers. “Are you happy you escaped with me?”

“Yes.” They left the Inquisitor and Sera amongst the trees surrounding Val Royeaux. Dorian woke him from a dream with simple words: ' _Que sont les affaires sans le plaisir?'_

“Good. We’ll see them again before the day is through.”

“Yes.” Cole said. Dorian wore three gold rings on his fingers. He liked shiny things. “Dorian, would you kiss me again if I were to buy you something?”

“I would. More than once, even.” Dorian blew smoke, adding to the wispy scrim between them.

“Good! Thank you!” Cole smiled. “The roses from your crown has died. I can get you a real one with beads, deep blue sapphires and fur—you like fur.”

Dorian’s chuckle waded off into a cough. “You need to learn the language of sarcasm my friend.”

Cole’s stomach sunk. “Dorian. Your name sticks like wine on my tongue. I taste you like blood in my mouth. Redcliffe was real. I want to kiss you again and again until I convince you.”

“Enough.” Dorian’s voice dropped to a whisper. Cole almost missed it under the hum of conversation around them. “You’re being ridiculous. I think I liked you best as a spirit.”

“Dorian—“

“Cole.”  
  
“Why? You didn’t explain.”

"I don't need to." Dorian said. "Beside the point, this is not the establishment for this discussion. My father's men could be skulking around in the shadows as we speak."

"They are." The shape of the woman with the diamond mask was gone. "They were."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

“I thought you knew.” The hidden hurts still pulled Cole although he couldn’t distinguish the masks from the sins, desires, and hopes inside. Something spoke to him as clear as bells until it didn’t. His humanity buried it. Now it murmurs like downing men under the sea of his consciousness. He listened for the secrets following Dorian. “We’re alone now.”

Dorian sunk into the pillows. “Well, give me a heads up next time, will you?”

"Yes."

"All right." Dorian straightened. "To address your earlier concerns: No I will not kiss you again. Kissing the same sod gets boring. The sequel is never as good as the first."

“Then why did you bring me here? Why not The Iron Bull? You want to kiss him.”

Dorian took a long drag from the contraption. He released saffron smoke. “Because you’re my friend. Because I like you more than the others right now. Though that can change. There’s a type of innocence in you the world rarely breeds.”

"You think I'm too young."

"I know you're too young."

"I'm not."

"Well then, how old are you?"

“Older.” Bits of stitched together history collected in his mind. Nameless jumbles of kings, queens, and empires rise and fall like a stack of cards. “Older than you. Ancient songs pull me. I don’t know if they’ll play for me anymore.”

“And here I thought I was robbing the cradle. Turns out it’s the grave I should’ve been worried about.”

"Will you kiss me now?"

"No."

"Dorian—"

"Don't whine."

" _Dorian_."

"Don't. Whine." Dorian said. The yellow smoke he breathed created a sunset. "It's unbecoming."

"Why?"

“No. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” Dorian said. "Why me? I'm filthy, reprehensible, dishonest, and other not so nice adjectives. I'll admit I'm handsome as the day is long, but you can do better. Morally I mean. Not physically. My advice? Find yourself a nice virgin girl who blushes when you say the word ‘fuck’."

"I don't want a girl."

"Or boy."

"Neither. I want you."

Dorian placed the pipe back into the contraption. "I'm bad for you."

"No. You're real. And I want—"  _To be real._  "You."

“Fancy that.” Dorian said. “And imagine this: I whisk you off to my bed and we tango between the sheets. What then? We return to Skyhold and pretend it never happened?”

"No. I will still want you after. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried."

"You are."

Dorian rubbed his temples. "I like you, Cole. You listen but don't judge. You offer advice, even though it's mostly insane gibberish. I suppose I'll admit to a certain  _Folie à deux_  back in Redcliffe, but I'm comfortable forgetting. We can go back to the way things were."

"I don't want to forget. You made me real."

Dorian sighed. "What I'm trying to say is, are you willing to risk our friendship, our newfound family, for a chance to bed me?"

"For a chance to  **love**  you, yes." Cole said. "We're not risking anything. I'll always be your friend, no matter what."

"I believe you, Cole. I don't know why, but I do."

“Thank you.” Cole said.

Dorian watched him before leaning over the table, knocking the fruit, wine, and pastries onto the floor. The mage didn’t flinch when the glasses shattered into a million pieces like confetti. The table groaned under his weight. His warm, charcoal breath played on Cole’s lips.

 “When’s a good time for you?”

“To do what?”

“To have me steal you away to my bed.”

 “When you’re ready.”

“What if I’m ready now? What would you say then?”

“The Inquisitor and Sera are looking for us”

“Let them look. We’re the only ones that matter now.”

His stomach cramped with selfishness he hasn’t felt in years. What if he forewent other people’s loneliness and desires to tend to his own? There were no strings to pull him now. The world wouldn’t end if he were to be alive with Dorian. The spirit still gnawed inside him. It said he was bound by the lives he’d stolen at the Spire. His human side ( _The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?)_ knew it was a once in a lifetime chance.

“We are.” Cole said. There was a hint of a smile on Dorian’s face. The mage leaned forward as Cole closed his eyes against the rush in his stomach. Dorian was going to kiss him.

Something pushed past his lips and bumped into the slick front of his teeth. Cole opened his eyes to Dorian being inches away from his face.

“That’s a good lad.” Dorian said. He stuck the pipe further into Cole’s mouth. “Now suck.

Cole almost hacked up a lung.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I decided to continue this because all of the wonderful comments I got! You guys are wonderful, seriously. I wouldn't have continued if it weren't for you.  
> 2) The chapter title, _Mes Voeux_ , is an art instillation by Annette Messenger. It means "My wishes" in French.  
> 3) Speaking of French, the French words Dorian says is, "What's business without pleasure?" I got it from Google translate. I'd certainly welcome a correction if it's warranted.  
> 4) The next chapter contains graphic sexual nature between these two. I would've put it up today but It still needs editing. I'll try to have it up by Saturday. Sunday at the most.  
> 5) The French correction is from LaviniaD! Thank you!  
> 6) The correction of the correction is from Pomelodrink! Thank you friend!


	3. The Garden of Earthly Delights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ll be the first bit of innocence I’ve had in me in a long time. Little, sweet Cole. Are you ready to be a bad boy?”
> 
> “Yes.” He gripped the nape of Dorian’s neck. His fingers sink into the silk hair there. “I want you to ruin me.”
> 
> “Good. That’s what I want to do.”

The tavern keeper had hairy arms and elephant hide rough skin. He smiled wide enough to showcase his missing molar. “Your usual room?”

“Yes. No wakeup call this time. I’m going to be busy.” Dorian didn’t motion to Cole but the tavern keeper’s eyes shifted to him anyway. Their eyes stuck. They remembered. He couldn’t retrieve the tavern keeper’s father’s message from the attic without scaring him. It’d have to wait until after tonight.

“Busy?” Cole asked. “Because we’re going to make love?”

“ _Ahem_. Remember the term I taught you? Discretion?”

“Oh, sorry.”

The tavern keeper’s smile stretched. “They get younger and younger, don’t they, Dorian? I’m not judging as long as he’s not a slave. That flies in the Imperium but—“   

“Your father didn’t mean it. You would’ve been a graceful dancer.”

“What?” The Tavern keeper’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Cole, stop.” Dorian grabbed Cole’s sleeve. “Fredrick, we’re going to retire now. Ignore him.”

The Tavern keeper dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “Magisters.”

They were halfway up the stairs before Dorian turned to him. “I can’t begin to explain how inappropriate that was.”

“He hurts.”

“You don’t have to help everyone, Cole.”

“I can’t ignore them, either.”

Dorian sighed. “Well, I suppose you can’t. You wouldn’t be you if you did.”

“Yes. It gives me purpose.” He ran his thumb across Dorian’s lips. “Are you going to wear ‘silky underthings’ for me like you did with the Iron Bull?”

“Poof! The moment vanishes.” Dorian continued up the stairs. “And only if you’re lucky.”

*

The room was washed bronze by its red walls and the declining light of day. The window’s white curtain fluttered in the summer breeze and carried off the smoke from the Shisha den downstairs. The bed was a mess of earth colored pillows with a large headboard. The headboard was engraved with elaborate dragons. An ark of furs covered the floor. Heads of beast Cole couldn’t name hung high on the walls. Their marble eyes tracked him against the room.

“You collect dead things.” Cole said.

“I take it you don’t like my décor?”

“No.”

“Well,” Dorian stripped off his outer robes and placed them on an aging shelf. “I’ll make sure to take care of it at once.”

“No. You won’t.”

“You know me so well.” Dorian leaned against the shelf. His waking sea blue eyes weighed on Cole. The window behind the mage bloomed sunshine and gave tangible form to Dorian's essence of gold and sparkling things. He was a God in stained glass. “Are you certain about this? Love making is very emotional. It’s a big deal for a lot of people.”

“Not you.”

“Did you just call me a whore?”

 “No?”

“Just answer the question, Cole.”

“I have to become more. Let you make me real. It has to be you. I want it to be.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes. I hope you are certain too.” Cole took a deep breath. The space between the walls spoke of laughter like bells. Phantom smells of bread brushed his nose. Former home of a baker. Death in the family. His stomach tightened as he ate the words. Stop. He’ll scare Dorian. “The baker died and the laughter died with him.”

Dorian pushed off the shelf and circled Cole. Cole thought of black eyed sharks in the deep, blue unknown. The mage stopped behind him. Dorian leaned over his shoulder, his solid, hot body against Cole’s back. His wet breath brushed Cole’s earlobe. “Now, now. None of that. It might make me reconsider.” Cole’s heart banged like a blacksmith’s hammer. “Are you ready to make the best mistake of your entire existence?”

“It’s no mistake.” Cole said. He turned until their eyes locked. They matched each other in height but Cole was thin and white. A phantom in the wake of a God. Stardust in the face of a supernova. Ice and fire. He was unworthy. 

“My, what will I find under those rags? Are you a puppet with a beating heart? You are a present I’m going to enjoy unwrapping.” Dorian breath trailed across his lips. Cole’s eyes fluttered closed against the tight rush in his stomach. “You’ll be the first bit of innocence I’ve had in me in a long time. Little, sweet, Cole. Are you ready to be a bad boy?”

“Yes.” Cole gripped the nape of Dorian’s neck. His fingers sunk into the silk hair there. “I want you to ruin me.”

“Good. That’s what I want to do.”

Dorian tasted like a fresh burn, metallic and bitter. He craved out the uncharted territory of Cole’s mouth and conquered him with his lips. Cole twisted his finger in Dorian’s hair, returning the assault with his own. His stomach was tight with sick, sharp, beautiful, unknown emotions strong enough to make him sway. The mage smelled of something flowery and expensive. His skin is fire hot. Dorian glittered and glowed from every inch of his being. He overwhelmed all of Cole’s senses at once.

Cole’s hat thudded when it hit the floor. He groaned into the kiss when Dorian’s fingers caught in the knots of his hair. They stumbled down onto the bed. He’s weighted down by Dorian’s mouth on his and anchored down by the mage’s fire hot body. Dorian pulled back.

“My, my. So eager.” Dorian kneed Cole’s thighs apart. “And what’s this? Are we blushing?”

Cole dragged breath into his starved lungs. “I don’t know. I’ve never blushed—“He gasped when Dorian’s silky, hot hand slipped under the hem of his tunic and rested on his abdomen.

“You’ll be doing that a lot.” Dorian leaned down to capture his lips. Cole met him half way and caught the mage’s spit-shiny bottom lip between his teeth. Dorian’s hips snap down against Cole’s knee, his hardness evident even under midnight, inner robes. Cole lifted his knee to accommodate the mage.

A litany of curses spilled from Dorian’s mouth after he pulled back. “Where did you learn that?”

 “The Inquisitor did it for you. He loved the taste until command made you bitter on his tongue.” Cole said. “He thinks about it sometimes.”

Dorian trapped Cole’s wrist against the headboard with one hand and scrapped his teeth along the curve of Cole’s jaw. Cole hitched. He closed his eyes against the sharp pinch of want. “Here’s a tip: Don’t talk about your paramour’s former lovers. It ruins the mood.” He grazed his knee against Cole’s groin. He was rewarded with a gasp.

“Dorian—“Cole’s skin burned. His nerves screamed. Lust pooled in his belly. He grinded against every part of Dorian he can reach. He was desperate for any patch of skin. He was loud. The whole den could probably hear him but he couldn't bring himself to be ashamed. Dorian slid three fingers of his free hand into Cole’s mouth. Cole felt spit pool around them as they muffled his sex-stupid sounds. Dorian rolled them on his tongue while still working his knee between his legs and leaving wet kisses on Cole’s face.

Dorian moved without freeing Cole’s wrists. He pressed his hardness against Cole’s. Cole gasped around the mage’s fingers causing them to slide deeper into his throat. He choked until his head swam. Dorian released him and sat back on his knees between Cole’s spread legs.

Cole whined at the loss of heat, the salty taste of skin on skin, and the sweet friction.

Dorian's gold skin was tinted with red. His black strands of hair hung in his face. His mouth was shiny and wet, swollen with abuse. His neck was painted with three, red bruises—Cole put them there. Even though they face an endless stream of demons and angry men in armor, he had never seen the mage so wrecked, so uncontrolled.

And it was Cole’s doing. His trousers got tighter.

“There won’t be any for me if we keep going this way.” Dorian’s breath came out in short puffs. He slipped the midnight inner robes off his broad shoulders. The skin of his chest was polished like something untouched by the hands of man. His muscles curved like valleys. He pulled his trousers down to his hips.

“Sleek, soft, sinful. They really are silky.” Cole sat up. His body was lust heavy. He leaned back against the headboard. “Can I have them after?”

“If you’re good.” Dorian pulled his trousers and underthings down his thighs.  

“I thought I was supposed to be bad.”

“All you’re supposed to be is naked.” Dorian said. “Now hop to it.”

Cole’s trembling fingers fought the buttons of his tunic. He brushed the heavy garment onto the floor with Dorian’s silky underthings. He hovered over the button of his trousers. “I never saw the real Cole naked.”

“So you don’t know if you were able to mimic all of him, hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it can’t be much different from the rest of you.” Dorian said. “So many ribs. I’d thought you’d mastered eating by now. And that skin. If there was a whiter shade of pale, I’ve found it.”

“I’m sorry. I try to eat but it’s hard and the sun doesn’t like me much. It doesn’t shine for me like it does for you.”

“No, you’re all right.” Dorian said. “Besides, there’s only one part of you I’m interested in tonight.” The mage undid the button of Cole’s trousers. He wasted no time sliding them down Cole’s legs. Cole lifted his hips to help him.

He shivered under Dorian’s gaze. No other being has seen him so close to his true form. Dorian smirked.

“To my delight, I'm going to need that jar on the shelf. Hand it to me.”

Cole surveyed the wilting shelf. “There are many jars. Some sing of forgotten chocolate. Others of fresh, sharp scents and the silver one— _oh_.”

“Yes, that jar.”

He handed the slick jar to Dorian. The mage screwed the top off and tossed the lid behind himself. He got his fingers dripping wet with something smelling of peppermints and wrapped his hand around Cole’s cock. Cole snapped his hips up. The tightness is so good, it’s painful. His fingers twisted in the sheets as something uncurled low in his stomach. He couldn’t keep breath in. He couldn’t stop fucking into Dorian’s fist.

 “Dorian,  _maker_ —“

“I’m not the maker,” Dorian’s knuckles dragged across Cole’s abdomen with every tight stroke. Cole pressed his head back against the headboard. “But close.”

His whine was pathetic when Dorian took his hand away.

“How do you want me?” Dorian asked. He stroked his own cock while leaning in to give Cole a hot, wet kiss against the corner of his lips. He moved back before Cole could reciprocate. “On my knees?”

“No. I-I want to see what lives behind your eyes.”

“Romantic.” Dorian joined him at the headboard. He bumped Cole’s shoulder with his before lying down and spreading his legs. “Kneel between my knees, love. Don’t rub anything I put on your cock off.”

Cole moved until he was between the mage’s legs. He leaned forward on his knees and placed his hands on either side of Dorian’s head. Dorian’s cock slicked up Cole’s abdomen with pre-come. Cole rubbed his own between Dorian’s thighs before he pressed it against the pucker of Dorian’s body. Cole moaned into Dorian’s mouth when they kissed.

Dorian scooted down until the curve of his ass is seated against Cole’s groin. Cole whined, clenching his eyes shut against everything he ever wanted.

Dorian wrapped his legs around Cole. The rough skin of his heels dug into Cole’s back. He tangled his hand in Cole’s hair. “I always wanted to fuck a demon.”

Cole seated himself inside Dorian in one thrust. He bit into Dorian’s neck to muffle his shout. It was so tight it’s painful, hot, wet, too much. Their chests slick with sweat, eases the friction of skin on skin. He held Dorian tightly, so he wouldn’t escape.

Dorian pushed at Cole’s sides. “Unhand me, you thug!”

Cole groaned and moved back until the tip of his cock was still inside the mage.

“You don’t just— _fuck_ —you don’t just slam it in like that!”

“Sorry.” Cole voice was so strained, he barely even recognizes it.

“Calm down, or I’ll bend you over and show you what it’s like to have something shoved inside of you.”

Cole leaned down and slipped his cock out. Dorian propped his leg over Cole’s shoulder. Cole pushed in slowly, pressing deep into the mage. The burn of being inside Dorian made him dizzy. Forces of pleasure shot down his spine as he began to move. Every slow drag in and out of the mage caused him to moan. Dorian was silent under him. The mage dragged his fingertips through Cole’s hair.

Cole grunted against the uncurling in his stomach. He slammed in, causing a shout from Dorian. The mage’s eyes were closed, his lips were parted, and his face was flushed. He arched his back, burring himself deeper onto Cole’s cock. Their damp bodies met in an audible slap of skin on skin. Cole lived for the new sound, the gritty-too perfect burn. He didn’t need death to make himself alive. The darkness wouldn’t swallow him whole. Dorian was his new purpose. The mage was tight and willing under him. Cole sat up on his knees and steadied himself before gripping Dorian’s hips. He slammed in and Dorian arched his back. The mage had both hands clasped around the pillow behind his head. Cole was distantly aware of the pained grunts leaking from the mage’s lips. Cole’s thrust grew short and sharp. He buried himself deep as he could go into Dorian and stilled before coming with a hoarse sob.

Cole let himself fall forward on to Dorian. His body was heavy. He didn’t know how long they laid there as he softened inside the mage’s body.

“My leg hurts.” Dorian said breathlessly. His blunt fingernails scraped against Cole’s sides. Cole eased Dorian’s leg off his shoulder before lying next to him.

Dorian slid his hand down his own slick stomach and rubbed his pre-come. He wrapped his hand around his cock and pleasured himself. Cole listened to the gasps and sobs until Dorian came. He wiped it on the cover.

“Come doesn’t dry the way you think. It’ll never come out of the fur.” He pulled Cole until his strong arm was wrapped around Cole’s midsection. His head was tucked under Cole’s chin. “I must warn you, I’m a cuddlier.” The press of their bodies was unbearably hot but it would’ve been worse if they didn’t touch. It smothered Cole in the best way. Cole’s thin white arm conflicted on Dorian’s gold muscular ones. “You’re quiet, love. Are you all right?”

Cole noted Dorian’s sweet attitude. He wondered if he’s always like this after sex. Cole’s body ached in the most amazing way. He’s real. Vindicated, like he passed some sort of test. He’s gritty, wet, sinful and _oh_  so human. “Yes. Thank you for this.”

“Don’t thank me. It makes me feel like a prostitute.”

“Sorry.”

“And stop apologizing.”

“Sorr—yes.”

“You did a splendid job. With a bit more practice and grace, you could become a lover for the ages.” Dorian mumbled into his chest. “It makes one think you’re not as nice of a boy as you would have us believe.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I don’t know.” The heaviness of sleep was taking Cole away as Dorian snuggled against him.

“You’re going to be impossible to live with.” Dorian was silent for a while before, “So Cole, as a former demon—“

“Spirit. I wanted it to be spirit.”

“As a former spirit, do you think they’ll be any drawbacks to our coupling?”

“No. I’m real now.”

“Of course, but you were a demon.”

“Spirit.”

“Yes…But” Dorian said. “Do you think you’ll have me with child? Like some sort of horrific sea horse monstrosity?”

“No. I don’t know. I could try?”

“That’s the spirit.” Dorian smiled. “And I hope to Maker you’re not serious.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I have never wrote a sex scene (well, I sort of have but not so detailed) so please forgive me if this is inaccurate. If you have any nice advice I could use to edit this, please let me know.  
> 2) I know it's rife with grammatical errors but I needed to put this up before I lost my nerve. I'll come back and fix them as often as I can.  
> 3) The title is from "The Garden of Earthly delight" a triptych by Hieronymus Bosch.  
> 4) I know it ran a bit long. :/  
> 5) I'm unsure if I should continue because it could become dark with Cole's jealousy and insecurities. Also some meddling from Solas. Let me know what you think! You guys have been so amazing and helpful. I wouldn't have past the first chapter without you people.


	4. Subjected to His Will

Sometime between the wolves and the birds, Dorian had woken Cole up with the cool press of lips on his forehead. Cole was sticky and sore but loathed to get up from his warm and perfect position against the mage. Dorian had proposed a bath. They both slipped into the steaming water. Cole’s back was against Dorian’s broad chest. Dorian’s strong hands scrubbed away the sweat and filth from Cole’s hair. Cole drifted inside his own head and captured the still moment while trying to fit eternity in an hour. 

They returned to bed. The room was washed blue by the coming morning. Cole straddled Dorian’s thighs. Their damp skin stuck together while the sweet tinted summer winds dried them.

“The art of seduction is subtle. If it’s filthy, you’re doing it wrong.” Dorian’s voice was gritty with sleep. His blunt fingernails dragged up and down Cole’s lower back. Cole steadied himself with one hand on the headboard while the other hand conflicted on Dorian’s gold cheek. “Remember when I washed your feet and hair? If I said, ‘I’d do more than wash your feet and hair’—a terrible example, I admit, but it would be seduction. Do you understand?”

“I think. Let me try.”

“All right.”

"I’d wash your feet with my tears and hair.”

“What?”

“It’s wrong. I'm sorry. My mouth doesn’t always listen to me.”

”You're adorable.” Dorian smiled. He leaned up and pressed his lips against the corner of Cole's mouth. Cole didn't return the smile. “Is something wrong?” 

“Are we going to tell them?”

“Tell who what?”

“The Inquisitor and Sera that we made love.”

“Are you joking? The blood mage and the demon formed an unholy union? I think not.”

“You’re not a blood mage. I’m not a demon.”

“Every mage from Tevinter is a blood mage to these southerners.” Dorian said. “And the citizens of Skyhold are still wary of you. It’s your lurking, really.”

“You’re ashamed.”

“I’m not ashamed. I’m just cautious. It’s like a game of  _Wicked Grace,_  you never show your hand.” Dorian said. “Telling the wrong person could get me preemptively executed by your Templars--if you ever find them, that is."

“I can protect you. If they come for you, I will kill them.”

“Calm yourself.” Dorian said. “It’s nothing they need to know. Discretion is the key, remember?”

“Yes.”

The mage’s tea black hair created a damp halo in the pillow. His chest rose and fell. He was alive and in motion right under Cole's body. Dorian was oddly innocent without his smirk. He smiled with an open understanding in a way Cole had never seen him do in the terrible sunlight. Cole wished he could put time in bottle to have this night forever.

The lavender and gold announcing the coming day painted the room in a pink haze. He wasn’t ready for the blue sky that’ll break the spell of the diamond starred night and pull them apart. He was afraid of the sun’s return.

_Take him and cut him out in little stars,_

_And he will make the face of heaven so fine_

_That all the world will be in love with night_

_And pay no worship to the garish sun._

“I can never tell what you’re thinking.” Dorian said. “Though I do love mysteries.”

Cole thumbed the mage’s bangs out of his perfect face. “Are we going to do it again?”

"Make love?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know.”

"Why?”

“I can’t imagine how to explain it to you in less than ten words.” Dorian said. “And it’s almost time to leave Val Royeaux. We can talk about it on the way out, yes?” He ran his fingers through Cole’s damp hair.

“No.” Cole brushed Dorian’s hand away and climbed off the mage. Dorian sat up in bed as Cole pulled on his clothes and armor.

"Where are you going?"

“To heal.” Cole slid the screen door open and headed to the attic to fetch the tavern keeper’s father’s message.

  
*

They traveled toward a rippling horizon forever out of reach. Through leaves of grass and tall trees, destined for Skyhold. The Inquisitor and Sera had finished their business without them. It involved fight with the ‘rat king’ but before could ask how a rat becomes king, Dorian silenced them. The Inquisitor and Dorian made silhouettes ahead. Dorian complained about the hot press of sky above them. Cole and the whisper thin elf trailed behind.

Sera watched him out of the corner of her eye. “You’re quiet for you. I probably have nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”

“No. You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

“Good, that.” She said. “Why do you keep watchin’ flappy robes? Where did you get off to with him?”

The words spilled from him like water out of a stream swelled with rain. “Crucified eyes watch bodies that shouldn’t fit go together. The loathed light came creating walls around what I want, blocking.”

“Shite. Forget I asked.” She walked ahead and fell into step with Dorian and the Inquisitor. Cole was left to be pulled apart by the voices in his head.

*

Cole asked a lot of questions during the three days walk to Skyhold but never the right ones. The Inquisitor paid him no mind, Sera threatened him, and Dorian tried to answer as patiently as he could until he got frustrated and dismissed him. Nothing had changed. Cole couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse.

The nights were different. Dorian didn’t make him sleep alone. He never said anything when Cole crawled into his tent and slid in next to him. He just pulled Cole against his chest and put his chin in the apex where Cole's shoulder meets his neck. Cole would twine his fingers through the mages and try to get their hearts to be in time. Dorian spoke softly to him as his hands played over Cole’s body in a way that’s better than lovemaking.

They make love in the predawn hours. Cole learned how to control his new body and make it good for Dorian. The mage usually kept tempo by riding him as he pressed his hand over Cole’s mouth to keep him quiet. Cole made him come for the first time the night before they reached Skyhold. Dorian muffled pants, groans, and colorful curses in Cole’s straw hair as he shuddered and clenched around him. Cole pressed his lips against the mage’s tan throat.  

Cole tried to be grateful and not wish for more time.

*

Skyhold sang songs of hope when their savior, the Inquisitor, returned. Cole faded into the blur of villagers and slunk into the Herald’s Rest. He ignored the whispers of the patrons. He liked being remembered through sometimes he wished he could walk without the accusing and suspicious glares. All he wanted to do was help the hurt and save the small.

He sat in the corner and listened. The patron’s pains were muted by the image of a golden mage with warm hands and a sharp smile.

*

Cole walked along the edge of the battlements where the heavens met stone. He teetered on oblivion. He was human. The fall would kill him but his old habits wouldn't quit. The thin air cleared his head and with the lack of people, his thoughts were his own.

“Oh, how badly I wanted to yell.” Dorian said. He came into view by leaning over the battlements. Cole turned to view the mage’s cold, sardonic expression. His hair was immaculately groomed. His robes were too clean and they clashed against the endless blue. He was nothing like the flustered, slick, attentive lover he was two nights ago.

“You wouldn’t have.”

“You have too much faith in me.”

“I have enough.” Cole sat and pulled one knee to his chest. “I know what you’re capable of.”

“Is that a snide remark I hear? From you? Bravo, you are becoming human.”

“Probably.” Cole considered the newfound sea sickness in his stomach. “You want things.”

“To talk, yes.” Dorian said. “You’re cold today. Under the weather, I suppose?”

"No."

“Then what is it?”

Cole took a deep breath. “Pinning me down, will to fight, will to be conquered. Grab hold to his horns to feel something, anything real. It’s not him but the next best thing.” Cole said. “You made love to the Iron Bull last night.”

“I did, though I don’t see how it’s any business of yours.”

“It’s not.” Cole said. “No—yes, it is. You made love to me. Now you think of the Inquisitor while making love to the Iron bull.”

“Poked around in my head again, did you?”

“Yes. I don’t like what you’re doing.”

“I believe you said we’d still remain friends after I granted you what you wanted. You’re a man of your word, usually. What changed?”

“I’m sorry. I wanted it to be true—and it is—I just didn’t know it would hurt.” Cole said. “Why does everything hurt?”

“It’s a part of being human.” Dorian said. “It’s easy to get desire and love confused like it’s easy to confuse salt with sugar. You have to taste it to tell the difference. You desire me like Bull does and I desire you too. You think you love me because I’m the first person you bedded. You've tasted desire. You have never tasted love.”

“I love you.”

“You’re not in love with me, Cole.”

“How do you know?”

“I have no time for a schoolboy crush.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Time and growth will convince you that it is.” Dorian said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m headed to more pleasant company.”

*

The apostate made Cole soft and calm. The candlelight in his study was enchanted by white magic which made it glow for all eternity. Spirit danced around him. He wondered if Solas could feel them too. He’s tempted to wander over to the elfin mage and introduce him but the spirits didn't want to be seen.

“How are you feeling?” Solas barely spared a glance from the papers on his desk.

Cole’s stomach ached with nervousness. He was reminded of his true purpose. “I don’t know. My stomach kneads into knots. Can you talk to it? It hurts.”

"I am afraid that is not in my abilities.” Solas turned to him. “Though, I will try to help in any way I can.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Now what is the problem?”

 “It's too much.”

“Being human?”

“Yes.”

“You have chosen a difficult path.” Solas said. “Do you have any specifics I can help you with?”

“I promised not to hurt but I can't wash it off.”

“I do not understand.”

“I made love.”

“You what?” Solas asked. “It was too soon. Who told you to do this? Iron Bull?”

“No. It's what I wanted.” Cole said. “Though now I can't stop wishing, wanting.”

“May I ask who—“

“No.”

“Cole, I need more insight. Tell me what I can do for you.”

“I need you to make it stop. Protect me from what I want.”

“You have developed a strong affection for the person you made love to?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a prostitute?”

“No.”

“Have you felt affection for this person before making love?”

“Yes.”

“Cole, I must admit I am quite inexperienced in this matter.” Solas said. “Though I will tell you that you need to make your feelings and needs clear to the person you think you love. That is the human response.”

“What if they're afraid? What if they don’t believe me?”

“Then there is nothing you can do but take solace in the knowledge you have tried.”

*

The symphony of soft voices, falling books, the fluttering of pages and birds, the prayers and curses of the library is muted by night. His every movement echoed off the empty spaces as he walked up the winding stairs. He wasn’t used to hearing his footsteps. He wondered if Solas could make it stop.

Cole walked to the halo between bookshelves. Dorian sat in a tattered, red throne of a chair with a wall of dusty books behind him. He had a well-thumbed copy of _Swords and Shields_ on his lap. Three candles burned low on a tarnished table next to him.

“This is absolutely dreadful.” Dorian said. He straightened in his chair and turned his dark gaze to Cole. “I wonder if Varric would sign it for me.”

Cole sat in a wooden chair across from the mage. He took off his hat. “You’re not with the Iron Bull.”

“Oh my, did you check? Don’t tell me you were following me.”

“Yes.”

“You need to learn how to lie about things of that nature.” Dorian said. He closed the book and tossed it to the floor. The impact sent tremors through the still library. “I knew you were skulking around here somewhere." Dorian settled back into his chair. “Do you want to begin? No? Well, I will. Where do you see this going?”

“Going where?”

“No, what do you want from our arrangement?”

“You.”

“You have me, Cole. Whenever you want, however you want.” Dorian said. “Even up against these books, right now, if you like.”

“I want you in more ways than lovemaking, even though I really like...Sex.” Cole said.

“Most gentlemen would be thrilled with the agreement we have right now.” Dorian said. “You get to bed a charming, handsome, noble without having to worry about kicking the sod out in the morning. Why risk it?”

 “Because I—“

“I know, I know. You adore me.” Dorian patted his lap. “Come here.”

Cole’s stomach was knotted as he crossed the small space. Dorian guided Cole until he straddled the mage’s lap. Cole balanced himself by holding on to the back of Dorian’s chair. Dorian stroked soothing circles into the small of Cole’s back.

“I’d be dishonest if I said I didn’t feel anything for you. Well, other than friendship and deviant lust.” Dorian breathed against Cole’s lips. Cole groaned when the mage grazed his Adam’s apple and stroked his pulse. “You have all the innocence of a stray mutt who followed me home after I fed him and yet, there’s something dark inside you, something possessive. Reminds me of home, really.”

“I don't understand.”

“You don't need to.” Dorian said. “Just tell me what you want. Everything. Then I'll decide if it's too much.”

“I want what the Inquisitor had.” Cole said. “I want you bound to me.”

“I feel as if I should be frightened with how you said that.” Dorian said. Their lips met for the barest of moments. “So, no more getting to ride the Bull, hmm?”

 “No.”

Dorian watched him for a moment too long before he tangled his fingers in Cole’s hair. “All right. We’ll see how this goes, though I promise you nothing.”

“Thank you.” Cole said. He gripped the nape of Dorian’s neck. “Can we tell the others?”

“No. They wouldn’t understand. They’d think I’m a corrupting influence on you.”

“Why?”

“Because this world hasn’t crushed you yet. Because you’d let me do anything to you if I called it love. Because I am.”

 “I…Yes.”

“Sweet Cole.” Dorian pressed their lips together. His warm breath brushed Cole’s lips. He slid his fingers under the hem of Cole’s tunic and up his side. “You can’t halt your slide into bitter disillusionment though it’s amusing to watch you try.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The italicized words are from Romeo and Juliet Act 3, Scene 2.  
> 2) Cole quotes a weird version of the bible verse Luke 7:44 (Wash your feet with my tears and hair).  
> 3) I'm probably going to spend the next chapter developing their relationship. It's gonna be the rise before the fall.  
> 4) Of course the title is from Cole's companion quest in the game.  
> 5) Your comments keep me going! Please keep telling me how you feel.


	5. Catullus 85

 

*

_"Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?_

_Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior."_

*

The light clatter of Cole’s favorite mount’s hooves echoed through the empty cobblestone streets of Skyhold. The clouds above the village were lavender and promised a bright morn. The village was black, except for a few fluttering curtains lit by lamplight. The wind cut his cheeks and gave his pallor complexion a red tint—an imitation of life. A splash shattered the predawn silence.

“ _Fasta vass_ , my robe.” Dorian said. He lifted the corner of his white outfit painted earth by the aftermath of a summer’s rain. His voice carried across the vacant streets. His syllables smeared together from brandy. “This was imported two days ago. This trip of yours better be worth it.”

"It is." Cole said. “We have to be quiet.”

“Well, how far is it?” Dorian climbed up onto Cole’s mount. He was as graceful as a dancer even while drunk. Cole took the long reins of the animal.

“Over there.” Cole pointed at the thin line of gold separating the night sky from the morning. “We can be back before the village wakes if we hurry.”

The hour dwindled until the clouds bled. The red mixed with gold created a pastel morning. The hue of nature was gold. The flowers, weeds, leaves, and grass stood equal in the first light. They were all studded with pearls of dew. Young apples hung from the tree Cole tied their mount to. He helped Dorian off the animal. When the mage was settled, Cole moved to the other side of the tree and scrapped aside a gather of leaves, revealing three earth colored leverets. The baby hares flinched at the light.

“Splendid.” Dorian said. He lifted his robes and knelt in the wet grass. “Adorable balls of disease.”

“No. They’re rabbits.”

“These aren’t rabbits. They're hares.” Dorian said. “Is this why you took me away from my brandy and whisked me out here at this ungodly hour?”

“Yes. Their mother is gone and I heard and they are here and I need a place to keep them.”

“Hmm. Where do I come in?”

“I need a place for them. Can they stay in your room?”

“Absolutely not.” Dorian said. “Why don’t you keep them in the attic you lurk in?”

“The people there will see them and kill them.”

“I see.” Dorian carded his fingers through Cole’s hair. He leaned in and scraped his teeth on the shell of Cole’s ear. Cole’s senses were flooded with the sting of Dorian’s wine.

“If I agree, what’s in it for me?”

Cole failed to suppress a shudder. “We raise them.”

“Adorable answer, but that’s not what I meant.”

Dorian’s mouth was a hot, wet slide from Cole’s jaw to the apex where Cole’s neck met his shoulder. Dorian wrapped his fingers around Cole’s throat hard enough to bruise. Cole pushed Dorian onto his back and kissed him as hard as he could. They always progressed fast when Dorian was drunk. The mage obviously forgot about his cloud white robes against the soggy land as he kissed Cole back. Cole tried to abstain from making love to Dorian while the mage is adrift in a sea of drink—which was a lot lately—but he always succumbed to glorious failure. Dorian was pliable and accommodating when he was inebriated. Cole could do anything to him. He could pretend he didn’t taste the sourness of booze and the Inquisitor’s name on the mage’s tongue. He pretended that he was as important to Dorian and as real as their savior, the morning star of Thedas. He was the most important thing in Dorian’s world in those moments.  

Dorian hitched his leg around Cole’s hips pushed up against him to get contact where he needed it the most. “Cole, tell me you love me.”

“I love you.” Cole murmured against Dorian’s lips. The mage filled his senses like the scent of a forest after a rain. He wanted to drown in him. Time blurred when they're together. Nothing began. Nothing ended. He was always him. Dorian was always this. They were always them. He forgot the Inquisition, the stabbing pains of its inhabitants—everything. He left it all behind when he was over Dorian.

“Tell me you want me.” Dorian’s blunt fingernails left red trails on Cole’s white skin. “Tell me you’ll never leave.”

“I want you. I’ll never leave.” Cole parroted. His voice was dulled, monotone, in his own ears. He was faraway and distant. “I’ll never hurt you. I’ll kill anyone who does.”

“Devoted. This is just what I need.” Dorian bit Cole’s bottom lip. Cole moved his hand to undo his belt while he fumbled with the corner of the mage’s robes. Cole scraped his teeth along Dorian’s pulse. The mage rewarded him with a hiss and kicked out. The crunch of leaves broke the spell. Cole’s stomach dropped.

“Wait.” Cole knelt up. The mage pulled at Cole’s tunic. Cole pulled Dorian’s hands above his head and trapped his wrist against the grass. “Stop.”

The mage flexed his wrists in Cole’s grip. “What is this about? Just fuck me.”

“No.” Cole left Dorian and crawled to the nest of hares. Two hares nuzzled each other. The third was crying, twitching.  Cole’s chest tightened. “You hurt one.”

“What? When?” Dorian sat up. He ran his hand through his own hair as if he were trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “He’s fine.”

“No.” Cole lifted the animal up. He turned to the mage and put it to Dorian’s face. Dorian inched back.

“Well, Cole, I apologize—“

The crunch of bone echoed through the silent dawn and scared away three small birds. The hare fell ragdoll limp in his hands.

“Cole! What—“

“He was hurting. I wouldn’t have been able to stop it.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Dorian got to his feet. “You didn’t know he was going to die.”

“Yes. I did.” Cole gathered the remaining two hares in his arms to join the dead one. He moved toward Dorian until he was at arm’s length. “Silent, soft, still. He is dead. Here.”

“Excuse me?”

“You like dead things.”

“You’re joking.” Dorian said. “Is this a gift? Are you a feline showing your appreciation with macabre presents?”

Cole didn’t answer. He put the dead hare back into the hole before untying the mount. “We should go.”

Dorian nodded numbly as he climbed onto the animal.

*

The barking dogs, crying children, croaking roosters, and the pounding hammers of people setting up shop signaled a new day in Skyhold. Dorian placed his hand on Cole’s shoulder to stop him before they crossed the threshold into their floating village.

“Cole? Are you angry with me? I’ve never seen you this solemn.” Dorian sobered up like a tea kettle. He got louder and louder every passing minute.

“I could never be angry with you.”

“Then why won’t you look at me when you say that?”

Cole watched the hares in his hands. “I—“

“Fancy pants! Creepy!” Sera pointed an arrow inches away from Cole’s face. “Great morin’ innit? Wait, where did you two get off to? You shoulda brought me.”

“Sera.” Dorian pressed the head of her arrow down with his index finger. “You look like you only spent half the night scurrying through the garbage! An achievement.”

“Pfft. Funny, you.” She said. “And you smell and look like a tavern after a dwarf’s bachelor party. Which is weird for you, yeah?” Her attention snapped to Cole. “What’s creepy got in his hands?”

“Two rabbits.” Cole said. “Thank you for saying ‘his’ instead of ‘it’.”

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” Sera asked.

Dorian let out an exaggerated yawn. “Well, if you two don’t need anything from the Vint, I must retire.”

“Wait.” Sera gripped Dorian’s bicep.“Are you going with the Inquisitor? He has to go to the dry nowhere for some business. I’m not going but I hear he needs a mage.”

“I’m not even going to try and decipher what you said.” Dorian left them with a wave of his hand. Cole watched him disappear into the mess of villagers before he caught the small elf’s ocean blue eyes. They were trained on the hares.

“Can I have one? I won’t eat it or whatever.”

“Yes.” Cole said. Sera took it before he could give it to her and cradled it.

“Thanks, yeah?” She was off across the courtyard before he could blink.

*

Dorian’s door was cracked. Cole paused and debated whether he should knock or go to the Herald’s Rest. The hare sleeping in his arm made up his mind for him.

“No need to skulk outside. I left the door open for a reason.” Dorian called. “Do come in.”

Cole raked in the hard curves of the mage’s body under the red velvet sheets. The curtains were drawn, bathing the room in light. Dorian watched him through half lidded eyes. Despite seeing the mage naked over a dozen times, Cole still got a guilty smile and a hot face.

“That smile again.” Dorian said. “So innocent. I want to destroy it.”

“Where can I put her?”

Dorian sat up to get a better look at the hare. “I don’t remember agreeing to this but fine. Where’s the other one? Did you kill that one too?”

“No. Lady Emmald threw out Sera's rabbit when she was a child.”

“Took a drink from her head, did you?”

“No. There is pain on the pages in her room.”

“Cole—never mind.” Dorian said. “There are a few hat boxes in the closet. Pick your favorite and don’t wake me.”

Cole marveled at the array of candy colorful boxes. He picked the gold one because it fit Joseph’s personality best. He rolled up one of Dorian’s undershirts and placed it in the box before putting the hare on the softness. The hare took stock of her new home.

Dorian was snoozing when Cole turned to him. Cole closed in on the bed just before Dorian blinked awake.

“Don’t you think of crawling into this bed until you washed your hands.” Dorian said. “After, use some of that hot water to make me tea, will you? Not your dirty hand water but—“

“Yes.”

Cole took the bucket of water and filled the tea kettle before setting it above the eternal flame of the fireplace. He warmed the bucket and washed his hands. His hands were a shade lighter when he was done. It made him self-conscious about the rest of him. 

“Cole, forget the tea. Take off your clothes and come to bed.”

Cole did what he was told and got under the sheets. Dorian wasted no time wrapping his arms around Cole and pulling him until Cole was pressed to his chest. Dorian hooked his ankle around Cole’s and pressed his forehead into Cole’s shaggy hair. He ran his fingers up the bumps of Cole’s ribs.

In the golden afternoon, they lay in the dream space between the waking world and the sleeping. Cole didn’t know how long they were drifting between those wonderful universes. Knocking awoke them.

“Sparkler? You decent?”

“Shit.” Dorian whispered against Cole’s ear. “Get dressed.”

Cole did what he was told while Dorian pulled on his trousers.

“Never.” Dorian called out.“I am the antithesis of anything decent.”

“You're gonna need that sense of humor where we’re headed to.” Varric said from the other side of the door.

“Oh, where?” Dorian tied the shoulder straps of his tunic while Cole searched under the bed for his shoe.

“Nah, I gotta see your—“Varric opened the door. “Oh, kid.”

“I swear, you southerners were all raised by wolves.” Dorian said. His shoulder strap was still untied. Cole pulled at his gloves as his stomach cramped. His shoe was still missing. He forgot to lock the door. Dorian was going to be angry with him.

“Hey, kid.” Varric said. “What are you doing in here?”

“What? Cole and I can't have tea time together without something malicious a foot?”

“I asked Cole.”

“Dorian let me keep her in here.”

“Nouns, kid.”

“The rabbit I found this morning.” Cole said. “Her name is Joseph Beuys. She’s in a shiny yellow box.”

Varric stood in the doorframe like he was forbidden by enchantment to enter. He searched their faces before sighing as if he’d given up on something. “Well, the Inquisitor humbly requests you accompany him and myself to the Western Approach.”  
  
“I suppose he couldn’t be bothered to tell me himself.”

“He’s a busy guy.” Varric said. “And he needs the kid also, so finding you both in one place saved me a trip. Well, pack a lot of moisturizer, I guess.”

"Naturally.”

The dwarf shut the door behind himself. Dorian sighed while Cole found his shoe under the dresser. He put it on while Dorian ran his hand over his own face to scrub off the tiredness.

“Look at you, thinking on your feet.” Dorian said. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What do you mean?” Cole said. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched the performance art of the mage getting dressed.  

“That whole innocent bit about the bunny? Perfect.”

“Oh, it's true.”

“The best lies are half-truths.” Dorian said. “Don't be ashamed of it. This way, Varric couldn’t know I was going to fuck you silly a few minutes before he came.”

“Oh.”

“If only you were as adept at locking doors as you are at picking them.” Dorian said. “Well, go gather your things. Adventure awaits.”

*

Varric caught Cole while he was sharpening his daggers behind the Herald’s Rest.

“Didn’t we talk about you not doing that out here? You make people nervous.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“I’m kidding, kid.” Varric said. “But yeah, how’s about a talk?”

"I would like that.”

“Good.” Varric said. “I can't mince words. We’re pressed for time as it is.”

“Yes.”

“Is Dorian hurting you?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not doing any crazy magic? No rituals? You’d tell me, right?”

“Yes. I would.”

“Good.” Varric said. “Then what are you guys doing? You two seem awfully chummy lately. I mean, the way you're dressed—“

“A silk black shirt with embroidered gold dragons.” Cole said.

“Yeah.”

“He’s making me real.”

“Stop with the riddles, kid.” Varric said. “I’m worried about you. If there’s an issue, you know you can tell me.”

“Dorian is teaching me. Like you taught me not to talk to my shoelaces. Look.” Cole motioned to his outfit. “He bought this for me but I still like my hat.”

“Flamboyant.” Varric said. “But seriously, no odd spells?”

“No.”  Cole said. “You don't need to worry Varric, but thank you for caring.”

“Sure. All right, kid.”

*

The backdrop of the Western Approach cut a clean line between the cloudless blue pressing down and the burnt yellow pushing up. They carried the hot burden of the desert sky as it rippled and flinched in front of them. Cole trudged through the sand and stinging wind. His face went raw as he followed the Inquisitor’s mount’s indents in the sand.

“So, Sparkler. What’s your interest in the kid?” Varric coughed.

“Academic. What Mage wouldn't be interested in a spirit who made itself human?” Dorian always smiled brighter when he was uncomfortable. “Tingling with curiosity, I see. Whatever for?”

“So defensive.” Varric said. “Not trying to step on your ‘tootsies’ here, Dorian. I’m just worried about the kid.”

“He’s perfectly peachy. Do you think if he weren't, he'd keep it to himself? He overshares enough as it is.”

“Is that true, Cole? Are you ‘Peachy’?”

“Yes.” Cole said.

“Hey, is everything alright back there?” The Inquisitor turned his mount slightly to face them. His white veil fluttered in the wind. He had a broad chest and straight shoulders. He was a painting come to life with the backdrop of the golden sand and bright sky behind him. “Or is it the sun that got you all so heated?”

Cole stopped and watched his feet disappear into the sand. Dorian and Varric’s mounts made soft noises as they halted on either side of their savior.

“Dorian? Varric?” The Inquisitor’s dark skin is sketched in shadows by the burdern of the bright sun.  

“Peachy.” Dorian said. “Aren’t we Varric?”

“Sure, sure.” Said Varric. “Best buddies.”

“Cole?” The Inquisitor was always soft spoken with him. Cole fiddled with his gloves.

“Yes.”

“If all’s well, then we need to hurry.” The Inquisitor said. “Cole, you sure you wouldn’t want to ride with me? You’ve been walking for an upsettingly long time.”

“The sand wants my feet to stay.”

The Inquisitor smiled. “I’ll take that as a no.”

*

The desert at night stretched on forever and displayed the endless pearls of stars. Their campfire cut into the blackness and licked toward the vast heavens. He and Varric sat watching dead planets in bloom. They spoke of poets and old, unhappy, far-off things*. They avoided any thoughts about the impending deicide of the God who threatened to devour them all. Varric didn’t say anything when Cole bid him goodnight and crawled into Dorian’s tent but he could feel the dwarf’s eyes on him.

He laced the tent closed and waited for his vision to adjust to the cave dark dwelling. The reposed shape of the mage came into view. Cole carded his fingers through the mage’s hair. He knew his hands couldn’t match the Inquisitor’s. He knew Dorian didn’t think of him as alive like their savior. He would do anything for Dorian to think of him that way. He’d do anything to stop Dorian’s hurting. He placed a kiss on the mage’s forehead.

Dorian’s eyes flickered open. He turned to lie on his back with a soft grunt. The mage smiled at him. Cole didn’t return the gesture.

 “Dorian.”

“Yes?” The mage’s voice was gritty as he tried to shake off sleep. “Is it morning already?”

“No.” Cole said. “Look at me.”

“What?”

"Look at me.”

Their eyes locked in the darkness. Cole was grounded. He was real—alive. The vice in his chest was loosened. He was not drowning. The darkness turned to light. All there was is Dorian’s lidded eyes, kissable lips, and strong hands clasped around Cole’s.

“Thank you.”

 

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I feel the need to explain myself here. They slept together too fast and agreed to a relationship too fast. They're using each other as a crutch. Cole is not a spirit of compassion anymore but he still has tendencies. He wants to help Dorian through his hurt at breaking up with the Inquisitor.  
> 2) I warned you guys that it could get dark. I hope it's not too dark though, I'd hate to lose anyone. I'm still working toward a happy or at least bittersweet ending.  
> 3) The "Old, unhappy, far off things" line is from a poem called The Solitary Reaper.  
> 4) The chapter title is from Catullus 85. It's an elegiac couplet by the Roman poet Catullus. The Italicized words at the beginning is his poem. In English, it translates to "I hate and I love. Perhaps you ask why I do this? I do not know, but I feel it happen and I am torn apart."  
> 5) The other italicized lines are from Cole and Rhys in the book Dragon Age: Asunder.  
> 6) Thank you all for sticking with me and encouraging me to keep writing. I seriously enjoy writing this fic.  
> 7) Thank you guys for the comments! I love them! Please continue to post your honest opinions.


	6. Je suis désolé

After the dryness of the western approach, the black sky and dripping morning over Skyhold was a welcome reprieve. The rain rattled like pearls against the windows. They had been awake for at least an hour, listening to the rain.

“I have a wicked idea.” Dorian said. “How about we play a game?”

“I like games.” Cole said. “Cullen tried to teach me chess but I'm not very good at it.”

“You're adorable.” Dorian said. “But that is definitely not what I meant.”

“Then like knock-knock jokes? Varric is really good at that.”

“No.”

“Wicked Grace? The Inquisitor said I can't play that with him anymore because he thinks I cheat. I don’t mean to.”

“Well if the game were guessing you’d already be in trouble.” Dorian said. “But no. This game is called ‘Dragon’s breath’. It is played mostly in the morning but it could be played anytime really.”

“How does it work?”

“I was just getting to that part.” Dorian shifted to lie on his back. He watched the spider’s web of cracks in the ceiling. “Your partner and you take turns stimulating each other with your breath mostly, but you can use other things. Like feathers, curtain rods. One time with a fish. Telling each other naughty jokes and stories. The only real rule is that you can’t touch your partner’s genitals or your own. The first gentleman to come from phantom stimulation alone is the loser. He gets captained by the winner.”

“This is not a game.” Cole said. “A game is something children can play too.”

“Yes it is. It's a game for adults.”

“Oh.” Cole said. “The Inquisitor loved this game. He always let you win.”

“ _Let_ me?” Dorian said. “Wait, don't poke around in his head or at least don’t tell me about it.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Dorian said. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll allow you to go first. A little head start since you're new.” Dorian moved to the center of the bed as Cole moved to kneel between Dorian’s spread legs. The mage’s strong chin is shady with stubble. His eyes are glassy, clear and as blue as the skies over Val Royeaux.

“It comes off?” Cole asked.

“What comes off?”

“The darkness around your eyes.” Cole said. “It comes off?”

“You mean my eyeliner? Of course it comes off.” Dorian said. “You’ve never noticed?”

“No.” Cole said. “But I like your eyes this way too.”

“Splendid.”  Dorian said. “Now back to what we’re doing.”

“Yes.” Cole said. He cleared the morning from his throat. “There were three.”

Dorian smirked lazily. “Three what, love?”

“Three married nobles who took the villager against a tree.” Cole said, not really knowing why that stuck in his head. He had heard it after they helped the villager find his ram. “He liked it.” Cole pressed his lips against Dorian's hard and quick, like he was dotting a period at the end of his sentence. He pulled back before the Mage could reciprocate.

“Looted this from a poor man’s head did you?” Dorian licked his cracked lips. Cole watched the all of the stars and black of the universe-pupil expand until it almost consumed the watery blue.

“He was loud.”

Dorian breathed deeper. “Very good. Don’t tell me I'm dealing with a natural.”

“I didn't."

“It's a phrase Cole," Dorian said. "Let's carry on.”

“Yes.”

“Wait. I feel the need to add this extra rule: don't poke around in my head for the things that get me fired up, yes?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Continue.”

Cole took a deep breath before leaning down and nibbling on the mage’s earlobe. He blew, like Dorian told him to. The Mage shivered.

“Cullen used to like wearing women’s clothing in secret all though he's not interested in men.”

“My word.” Dorian took a shuddering breath. “Now that would be a pretty sight.”

“It is.” Cole said.

“Was there lingerie?”                      

“Yes. Red like apples.”

“Oh, you're good.” Dorian said. “But that was your three. Now it's my turn.”

Cole shifted to lie on his back while Dorian moved between his legs. 

“Now.” Dorian bent down to press his lips against the corner of Cole’s mouth briefly. Cole’s stomach fluttered. “Suppose you could do naughty things to me at anytime and anywhere. Imagine I couldn’t tell you to stop. I am completely at your mercy and disposal. What would you do to me?”

Cole squirmed at the heat in the stomach. “I would kiss you in the Val Royeaux market place. We would tell everyone you were bound to me.”

“That’s sweet but think sex. Think fucking.”

“I would leave rose shaped marks with my teeth on your neck so everyone can know you are mine.” Cole said, fighting the rising tide in his stomach. “We would make love in the Inquisitor’s bed.”

“Lovely.” Dorian’s hot breath caressed his pulse. “What else?”

“I’d take you under the tree where we first kissed.”

“Hmm. Would you actually have me on my knees? Hard? No regard for my comfort all?”

“No. I care about you.”

“Cole, I'm your toy in this scenario. I have no feelings.”

“Then…yes.” Cole said. His face was hot, his cock hard against his stomach. He avoided Dorian’s gaze.

“Would you finish in my mouth?”

“I—“Cole bit his lips. “I think you're done with your three chances.”

“No. I have one chance left.”  Dorian smirked. “The kiss was one. The dirty talk only counts as one.”

“Oh.”

“Mmhmm.” Dorian leaned down and licked his way into Cole’s mouth. His lips languished against his, his kiss hot, wet and rose petal soft. Dorian’s body radiated heat. Cole’s cock strained painfully. His fingers twisted in the sheets. He came, Dorian swallowed his gasp. When the Mage pulled back, Cole saw the white streaks he'd made on Dorian’s gold abdomen.

Dorian rubbed the come until it disappeared on his skin as Cole tried to catch his breath. “Looks like this round is mine.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m going to let you pleasure me with your mouth.”

“Why?”

“Because me fucking you involves a lot of preparation. I prefer to keep our dynamic the way it is.”

“I would let you.”

“I know you would but I’d hate to see you cry.” Dorian said. “Before we begin, I have a question.”

“What do you want to know?” Cole asked.

“That whole song and dance about our commander wasn’t true, was it?” Dorian asked. “That Cully enjoyed the silk of lady’s undergarments?”

“No.” Cole said. “I’m sorry.”

“You little minx.” Dorian smirked. “Well, get off the bed.”

Cole did and Dorian moved to sit up against the headboard. He extended his arms across the brown wood. “Lay down on your stomach betwixt my legs. Place your chin on my hip.” Cole gingerly did. He placed a light kiss on the gold skin there. Dorian sighed. “Lick the head of my cock first.”  
  
“Like a lollipop?”

“Oh yes. Perfect.”

The taste was akin to the rest of the mage’s body: A melting mixture of tangy and sweet. He traced the tip of his tongue on the head of his cock. Dorian groaned while petting Cole’s shag of hair. “Now, place your mouth around my cock like you’re enjoying a banana.”

“You collapse lovemaking and food a lot.”

“Ha. Don’t look inside my head, and you started it.”

“Yes.” Cole did as he was told, getting half of it in his mouth. He let it sit in his mouth while involuntarily moving his tongue on the underside. Dorian’s hisses, groans and moans were like music to his ears. The mage’s moans and Cole’s slurping was the only sound filling the room. Dorian gripped his hair, causing his cock to slide deeper into his throat. Cole choked as spit slid down his chin. His stomach swam until Dorian released him.

“I apologize for that, love.” He said, stroking Cole’s hair. “But don’t let it break your momentum. Back to work.”

Cole placed his mouth back on Dorian’s penis and sucked on the head. “Ah! Watch the teeth.”

Cole kept at it, experimenting with his breath, his gag reflex and spit. Dorian sighed his way through it, his manicured nails making small crescent moons in the polished wood of the headboard. Cole placed his fingers around Dorian’s hips. His thumbs dug into the bowls there. Dorian moved his hand to Cole’s hair and tightened his grip. He held it there until he emptied his essence into the orifice. It was warm, salty and heavy. Cole gagged as streaks of it slid down his throat. The bulk of it stuck on his tongue.

“Bon appétit.” Dorian was breathless. His chest rose and fell rapidly. “It’s delicious isn’t it? I would know. I have sampled it. What kind of chef would I be if I forced you to eat it if I didn’t?”

Cole grunted around the fluid in his mouth. The warm substance drained down his chin.

“You don’t have to swallow it, just—“

Cole spit it into his palm as he used the other hand to get to his knees. “What do I do with it?” His voice was raw. His jaw ached.

“Hold it for a moment.” Dorian said. “Kiss me.”

Cole pressed his mouth against Dorian’s, not ready for the slick slide of the mage’s tongue. Dorian kissed him eagerly, tearing him apart with the tools of his magic mouth. The mage pulled back with some of his own essence on his lips. His pink tongue flicked out to taste it.

“Wipe it on the bed.” Dorian said, his fingernails trailing against Cole’s scalp. “Are you alright, love? How was it?”

“I am good.” Cole said, rubbing the come on the sheets. “I liked it.”

 “That’s my boy.” Dorian said as he rubbed the come off his cock with a nearby handkerchief embroidered with his initials. He wiped Cole’s abdomen as well. Dorian took a deep breath. “Now, I’d like some breakfast. Cook the crêpes I taught you how to make and go easy on the cream. We’ve had enough, haven’t we?”

Cole felt the sting of a blush cross his face.

“Afterwards,” Dorian continued. “We’ll take a bath and I’ll comb your hair.”

“Yes.” Cole said. “I love you, Dorian.”

Dorian smirked. “Who wouldn’t, really?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I wrote this quickly last night because I was ashamed that I made the last chapter so dark. This is a brief reprieve from the main story before I get back to the angsty sadness. The title means 'I'm sorry' in french. It's not riddled with metaphors, similes and description because I wanted to get it over with. What it is probably littered with is mistakes. I love you guys.  
> 2) This was beta-d by the lovely LaviniaD! She is my savior. Thank you so much! Have my babies and I'll eat them one by one until you replace them with a rock and I choke. Then they'll grow up and overthrow us!  
> 3) Please leave me feedback! I want to know what the old and new friends/readers think. I also want to know where I'm at and if I lost you. I'd stop writing this fic if I did and exile myself to the east of Eden.  
> 


	7. Leaf Subsides to Leaf

Blood bubbled from his mouth like an overflowing cauldron. Three of his teeth cut into his palm as he clutched them. Iron Bull’s sandpaper rough hand cupped his nape as they walked through the giant twin doors of the Skyhold fortress. “Shit. Was that a good fight or what?”

Cole’s response was to spit another tooth into his palm.

“I know, I know.” Iron Bull patted him on his back. Cole winced at the sharp stabbing in his cracked ribs. “Pain is weakness leaving the body. It’s an old human saying, kid. It applies here because, you know, you can actually get hurt now.”

Cole’s voice was muffled by a mouth full of his own blood. His head swam.

“It’s a good thing we have mages coming out of the ass here. They’ll fix you right up.” Iron Bull smiled. “Hey, here comes one now. Were your ears burning, Dorian?”

“Cole I was—my word, what happened to your face?” Dorian’s fingers hovered over Cole’s hazy black eye and swollen cheek. The crimson bile made a thin line down his lips when he tried to speak.

“You should see the other guys!” Iron Bull said. “They look almost as bad.”

“What did you do to him, you savage?”

“He told Varric he wanted to hit things so I let him hit things.” Iron Bull shrugged. “Don’t get your skirt all twisted. Your new houseboy is fine.”

 “And what do you mean by that?”

“I don't know what freaky stuff you got him doing but he likes it.” Iron Bull said. “You Vints and your blood magic.”

“Ugh.”

“Or are you going soft on me, Mage boy? I hope it's not down there.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, I haven't seen you in a while. You don't _come_ when I call anymore.”

“Cole is half dead before our very eyes and you want to talk about this?”

“He’s good. It’s nothing those magic fingers of yours can’t handle.”

Dorian gingerly held Cole’s chin. “I have never seen his face like this. It’s rather unsettling.”

 “It’s just some of the many lumps to come. I'll make a Bull’s Charger out of him yet.” Iron Bull said. “Horns up!”

Cole nodded.

“Do stop that.” Dorian told Cole before he tugged his sleeve. “Don’t drop those teeth. Come with me.”

Cole waved at Iron Bull before being led down the steep steps by Dorian.

 “Well, uh. See you, I guess.” Iron Bull called after them.

*

Dorian’s careful hands peeled off Cole’s blood-sticky armor and clothes. He surveyed the fruit rotten bruises on Cole’s naked body while muttering to himself about Iron Bull. The motes of stardust came next. The magic created a humming halo just above his skin. The starlings knitted blood vessels and bones together. The black clouds of bruises were cleared away, making room for dewy skin. His ribs bent back into true. The blood drained from his mouth. In a matter of minutes, he was whole again.

Cole pushed his tongue against his sturdy bottom teeth. “Thank you.”

“As long as you don’t make a habit of getting your face turned into mush, you’re welcome.” Dorian handed him a too long nightshirt. Cole accepted it but put it on the side of the bed.

“I am taking Joseph out to play.” Cole said. “Do you want to come with me?”

“No, you go ahead.” The bed dipped when Dorian sat next to him. The mage poured himself some blood red wine from a bottle he kept on the nightstand. The Pinot noir bled into the lily white and gold teacup. He handed Cole the cup and drank from the bottle.  


Cole swirled the thick liquid and watched the tiny crimson tornado in the teacup. He put it on the nightstand.

“I see that’s a 'no' for you.” Dorian said. “I’ll get you accustomed to the taste one day.” He took another swig from the bottle. “Well, I’m due for a nap.”

 Cole threaded his fingers through the mage’s. “You sleep a lot, Dorian.”

“Of course. Its summer and do you know what that means for Skyhold? It’s full of dogs, heat and screaming children.” Dorian squeezed Cole’s hand. “I’d prefer to sleep till autumn, honestly.”

 “Oh.”

“Yes, but you and that animal have a splendid time.” Dorian said as he settled himself on the bed. “Be back by the first glow of evening, will you? Our first enchanter invited me to one of her latest cooking pursuits. It will be delightfully horrific. I wouldn’t miss it.”  
  
“Yes.”

“Now kiss me.”

Cole lent down and pressed his lips against Dorian’s. They were sticky with forgotten drink. He pulled back and grabbed his hat off the headboard. Dorian caressed his fingers down the dip of Cole’s spine. Cole sighed before getting up to pull on his clothes.

“Don’t forget to lock the door.”

*

The clear sky and summer sun over Skyhold smudged the courtyard into a faded painting. Cole kneeled in the middle of the Templar’s training fence watching the hare venture through the uneven grass. The Templars tended to avoid it when he was there. The sun was eclipsed by Iron Bull’s large frame.

“Hey, Kid.”

“Hello." Cole said. "I’m glad you came to talk to me.”

Iron Bull stepped through the fence. He sat on the grass next to him. “This looks fun. What're you doing?”

 “Watching Joseph. She likes the flowers.” Cole said. He crawled after the hare until he caught up with her. He lifted her in his hand. The growing hare now covered the length of his forearm. “She’s curious about you, The Iron Bull. Why—“

“Nah-uh.” Iron Bull said. “I’m here to soak up the sun, not get an existential crisis.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Iron Bull settled back against the groaning fence. “You know, actually let’s talk.”

“I would like that.” Cole said. “Can we talk about rabbits? Joseph is kind and she likes your horns.”

“I was thinking more about you and Dorian.” 

“Oh? Why, The Iron Bull?”

“Yeah, I know you’re sleeping together.”

Cole’s stomach dropped. He held the hare to his chest. “No.”

“Ben-Hassrath, kid. Lying won’t do you no good.” Iron Bull said.

Cole pressed his face into the hare’s back and inhaled her earthly smell. His stomach tightened. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. You just confirmed it for me.” Iron Bull said. “Plus you’ve been glued to his hip.”

“No.”

“This is the first time you tipped me on anything. It’s usually impossible to read that creepy blank expression of yours. I thought I was going crazy when I first suspected that you and him were...never mind.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Iron Bull said. “That part isn’t important anyway. What is though, is that I’ll keep your secret.”

Cole let the hare go. The animal scurried through the bright flowers. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Iron Bull said. “So, you two having a good time?”

“Yes. I like lovemaking.” Cole pulled his knees to his chest. The words that were brimming on the tip of his tongue spilled. They flowed from his mouth like a chalice swelled with rain. “He’s really good at it. We also share a bed and take baths together and play games. He makes me real.”

“That’s good. Glad to hear it, I think.” Iron Bull said. “You love him?”

“Yes.”

“Now that's what I was afraid of.” Iron Bull wiped the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. “It’s like this, kid. Dorian is a noble. Most of them are narcissistic, arrogant assholes and since he’s a Vint, he has a whole lotta crazy mixed in too.”

“What do you mean?”

 “Dorian’s oversized ego was crushed after the Inquisitor dropped him. You’re a good kid and also an easy target for what you humans call ‘love gluttons’.

“What?”

“I thought that was a thing?” Iron Bull said. “Just…he needs that someone to make ‘em feel important again. You know, tell ‘em his makeup and dress looks good, tell him you love him, pound him into the mattress a couple of times. Once he gets bored, or if the Inquisitor loses his mind and takes him back, you’re outta there."  

“I…” Cole pulled at his gloves. “That’s not true.”

“Maybe not. I’m sorry I brought it up, kid.” Iron Bull put his heavy hot hand on Cole’s back. “If the sex is good, it doesn’t even matter anyway. Although, the thought of you tying him up is freaky.”

*

Dorian room was overcast as his thick, black curtains kept the sun at bay. Cole put Joseph back in her box before washing his hands and stripping off his clothes and hat. He left them as a pool at his feet. He put on the too big nightshirt and joined the Mage in his bed. Dorian’s breath became uneven as he shifted in his sleep before blinking awake. Cole smiled in greeting.

“Look who’s back.” Dorian said. His voice was gritty with sleep. “It's still early?”

“Yes.” Cole couldn't help but to move a wayward strand of hair from Dorian’s face. He pressed a dry kiss against the mage’s lips. He pulled back.

“How was it?”

“I liked it. Joseph was happy.”

“That's nice. Did you wash your hands?”

“Yes.”

“That's a good lad.” Dorian said. He skimmed his fingers up Cole’s spine. Cole reciprocated by placing his hand on the mage’s lower back and enjoying the heat of his body radiating just under his fingers. Cole hooked his knee around the back of Dorian’s. He’s never initiated sex. His stomach tightens with nervousness as he closes his eyes and presses his lips against his, this time deepening the kiss. He guided Dorian on his back and settled between his legs. He couldn’t get used to the feeling of the mage under him. He moved to Dorian’s pulse and grazed his teeth along the vein. “I’m getting the feeling you want something.” Dorian’s chuckle hummed through his body.

Cole slid his tongue along the raised vein, the salty taste sticks to his tongue. His fingers reach under Dorian’s nightshirt, raising the cloth until it’s crushed under the mage’s neck. He skimmed his fingers up the mage’s chest and laid his palm flat over his steady heartbeat. For once, Dorian’s skin is natural. No sickly sweet perfumes, just sweat. Dorian’s scents are chameleon in nature. When he was with the Inquisitor, he smelled of sword grease. When he was with Iron Bull, he smelled of rust and metal—something overpowering and possessive. Cole wonders what mark he leaves on the mage, if any. Something sinks in the pit of his stomach—he wants to be remembered. He want’s Dorian’s body to remember, like it did with the Inquisitor and Iron Bull before him. He sunk his teeth into the crook of Dorian’s neck.

“Cole!” Dorian elbowed him off and sat up. He traced the rapidly spreading red cloud that marred his gold neck. “You know how much I dislike that. Did that animal give you rabies?”

“No.” Cole said as he sat next to Dorian. “I’m sorry.”

Dorian hissed when we pressed his finger against the bruise. “It’s fine. Nothing magic won’t fix.”

 “Oh.”

“Yes.” Dorian said. “We need to get prepared anyway.”

They hardly spoke the hour he spent watching Dorian bathe and take out their outfits. He helped Dorian dry himself off and light his pipe and was rewarded with a kiss for his efforts.

 “Blow them.” Smoke leaked from Dorian’s pipe as he sat on the edge of his dresser. The circle window behind his naked body was backlit in the Maker’s light, giving him a bright burst. ‘ _Was this the face that launched a thousand ships and burnt the topless two towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. Her lips suck forth my soul; see where it flies. Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.’_ The unknown psalm stuck on the precipice of his tongue. Dorian’s fingernails glittered with the dew of a new manicure as he extended his strong arms to him. Cole breathed out as though he was bewitched. His stomach fluttered.

“Brilliant.” Dorian took back his arm and slid off the dresser. He pulled on those infamous silky underthings before putting on his tunic and trousers. His robe came next, a vanilla color with raised tea flower petals floating up the side. He turned to Cole, his waking sea grey eyes intensified by the firm black around him.

 “Golden, gilded and glowing.” Cole said, still in lost in his too big bed clothes. “You’re bright. Inside and out.”

“Thank you.” Dorian smiled as he went over the view himself in the mirror. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

 “I don't want to go.”

“But think of all the wonderful food poisoning we’re going to get. Oh, lovely Vivienne. What I wouldn't give to stop her siege of the kitchen.” Dorian said. “And it’s high time you started eating.”

“Blech.”

“I see. Are you at that stage in humanity now? The rebellious young man who can't be bothered to listen? Get dressed for daddy, will you?”

“Dorian. Can I ask you a question?”

“Will you listen if I said no?”

“Yes.”

“Then no. Get dressed.”

“The Inquisitor will be there with you.”

“That’s hardly surprising, considering this _is_ his Inquisition.”

“No. It's different. There are no demons or men in armor or mages between you. The walls are smaller”

“Cole, we’re gentlemen. We can be in the same room without turning it into a stage drama.”

“You’ll hurt.” Cole said. “Why do you think hurting is who you are?”

“I'm fine. Please drop it.”

“Glittering to gloss a hidden hurt. If you burn brilliantly you hide. Not outside, but on the inside.” Cole said. “Stomach still knotting with nervousness— _if I don’t show, he wins._ ”

“Marvelous. You’re doing this to me again.”

The words spilled from Cole’s lips like bile _. “Don’t think you weren’t enough. You were always enough. Though when we’re apart I don’t miss you as much as I should. I will always **love** you, Dorian. Just not in the way you need. I can never be that. But I **love** you, I **love** you—don’t cry. Shit. Don’t cry.” _

“Do you feel better now?”

“No.” Cole crawled into the soft bed, sinking as he pulled the plush cotton blanket to his chest. Dorian had gotten tired of him mentioning the dead animals so he bought him a solution. Cole pulled his hat from the nightstand and slipped it on. “If he loves you, why did he leave? I don’t understand.”

“He wanted to fuck a Seeker with amazing cheekbones.”

 “It was more—words that divide, destroy a faithless, fleeting soul— _I **love** you. I just can’t do this._ —I want to untangle the hurt but it’ll tear, tie, or tighten if I tug.” Cole said. “I don't want you to go. I don’t want you to be sad.”

“This is not the type of discussion for sobriety.” Dorian said. “If you're intent on not getting dressed, I'm leaving.”

“But it hurts. I want to help. It wasn’t you fault. You could love him until the leonids fell once and for all and he still wouldn’t return it.” Cole said. “Together, your boat wasn’t meant to carry two. Nothing makes sense there. Stay here.”

Dorian watched him for a while. The silence weighed heavy. “Cole, are you jealous?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“You are.” Dorian said. “You can't just emotionally terrorize me like this. I don't care how new your humanity is.”

“I tore it. I'm sorry. It hurts. Hatred, healing—everything hurts.” Cole said. “I want to be a spirit again. I don’t want it to hurt anymore.”

“And there you go with your wounded puppy performance.”

“I’m sorry.” Cole said. “I want to help.”

“Don't pretend you're doing this for me, that you're not selfish.”

“Yes. I am selfish. I pity myself because I will never not love you.”

“Cole.” Dorian rubbed his temples before straightening the wrinkles from his robe. “I—of course you don't understand. The concept of emotions are complicated and I'm a rather impatient teacher. Also slightly in human myself, if popular opinion is to be believed.”

Cole buried himself farther in the sheet.

 “We're going to have to do something about our situation, yes?”

“Yes.” Cole said. “I love you.”

Dorian cupped Cole’s cheek and leaned in. He pressed his soft lips against his for the barest of moments. Every kiss they share ends too soon. The mage pulled back. “Cole, get dressed. It’s time to send these southerners into shock with our superb fashion sense.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The chapter title is line 5 from Robert Frost's poem, 'Nothing Gold can Stay'.  
> 2) The italicized line that's not Cole's ranting is from Scene XIII of 'The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus' by Christopher Marlowe.  
> 3) I'm nervous this is turning into a 30 chapter thing. I seriously don't want it to run that long but I don't want to unfaithfully rush to an end that would ring false.  
> 4) I get a thrill when you guys tell me what you think! Please leave me a comment about your thoughts! You guys have been so amazing and nice! I couldn't do this without you guys![](http://s255.photobucket.com/user/InvaderMAL/media/tumblr_njkub5IE7H1txiiw3o1_1280_zpsf7c19drp.jpg.html)  
> 


	8. Surfacing

The first breaths of autumn blew goosebumps into his skin as they reached the Emerald Graves lake camp. The water glittered with shards of the sun and stretched until it spread out against the sky. The trees grew tall over their campsite and leaned into each other, weaving a patchwork of sun and shade like a celestial gateway into their haven. The five days journey to the Emerald Graves didn’t flow well. The Inquisitor’s and Dorian’s conversations were dotted with heavy silences. Varric and Solas talked amongst themselves, pretending they didn’t notice the newfound awkwardness between their leader and the mage. Cole didn’t know what happened at Vivienne’s dinner party. He had left them to trade dagger sharp words and hide behind their silver masks. He’d spent the rest of the night discussing anything but Dorian with Solas and then retired to his old spot in the Herald’s Rest. He’d been awoken by Dorian who demanded to know where he was before the mage calmed down enough to informed him about their quest to aid Fairbanks in the Emerald Graves.

“Another day’s walk and we should be near his stronghold.” The Inquisitor said as he handed the reins of his Tirashan Swiftwind to a scout. “This place is breathtaking.”

“It is.” Solas said. “Cole, tell me what you feel.”

“Sadness. The trees remember them. Hurt, harrowed but proud and peaceful. It can be as it was again, if the people will it.”

“I see.” Solas said. “And how about the ruins?”

“Ah, leave the kid alone. Let him soak up some of this fresh air.” Varric said. “Would you look at that coast? Talk about majestic.”

Cole stared out into the waving lake. “I’ve never been swimming.”

“You’re about ready then, aren’t you?” Dorian said while he stored his gear in a nearly completed tent. “Give me a moment.”

The Inquisitor smiled. “You? Swimming? This is odd coming from a man who complains even when the wind touches his hair.”

“Well I am full of surprises. You, of all people, should know that.”

“Will you really teach me how to swim?” Cole asked.

“Of course, if the good Lord Trevelyan has no other use for us this evening?”

“Well, no, but—“

“Splendid.” Dorian said. “Come now, Cole. This should be fun.”

Varric frowned. “Kid, how about you stick around for a while? I mean, we just got here.”

“Yes.” Solas added. “We must rest for our long journey tomorrow.”

“Will you two stop fretting over him? He is human and a grown man. Let him be both.” Dorian said. “Cole, tell mummy and daddy that you’ll be fine.”

“I will be fine.” Cole said. “No need to worry but thank you for caring.”

“Dorian, you must stop telling him what to do. I do not understand what is going on with him lately, but you seem to be the culprit.” Solas said.

“Oh, so it is about him choosing to spend time with me. Why I am not surprised? He is no longer a spirit, so no need to be jealous. Unless, there’s some necrophilia tendencies our dear apostate friend isn’t telling us about?”

“You degenerate—“

“Enough.” The Inquisitor said. “How come every time there’s an argument you seem to be in the middle of it, Dorian? Is this something new to add to your whole ‘pariah’ thing?”

 “I would’ve used the term ‘asshole’” Varric said.

“Stop.” Cole’s stomach lurched. Too much anger and confusion at once to make sense of it all. He focused on a single Halla drinking from the diamond clear lake. He pushed passed his companions and travelled down the steep hill toward it. He could feel them watching him. The animal stood still as a statute and studied him with dove black eyes. “I won’t hurt you.” He held this hand out to the creature. The halla sniffed it before returning to its drink. Cole ran his fingers through the coarse, white fur. “This is better than fighting. I like halla. Halla don’t hurt people.”

The animal stopped drinking and peered behind itself. It scampered off so quickly, it might as well had been an apparition. Cole turned to see Dorian standing behind him.

“I’m sorry, Cole.” Dorian said. “For the confusion up there and startling your new friend.”

Cole looked up hill at Varric and Inquisitor Trevelyan surrounding a blooming fire with three inquisition scouts. Solas was off to himself, sitting at the foot of a great red tree. “Everyone is angry but they hide behind thin reasons. They should say what they mean.”

“Of course, but it wouldn’t be as much fun if we did.” Dorian smirked. “Now, I do believe I promised you a swimming lesson. You have packed other clothes, yes?”

 “Yes.”

“Good. Take off your hat, shirt and shoes.”

Cole did as he was told and placed the garments and weapons on the ground. Dorian pulled off his own desire red tunic and placed it on top of Cole’s clothes. He left his pants on but unstrapped his metal knee guards and boots. He smiled at Cole and waded into the water until he was waist deep. The mage’s arms called to him. He was a glittering, gold handsome sea-thing luring him to his death in the silent waters. Cole would gladly go into black eternity with Dorian.

_For swelling waves our panting breasts,_

_Where never storms arise,_

_Exchange, and be awhile our guests:_

_For stars gaze on our eyes._

_The compass Love shall hourly sing,_

_And as he goes about the ring,_

_We will not miss_

_To tell each point he nameth with a kiss._

_—Then come on shore,_

_Where no joy dies till Love hath gotten more._

 “Come to me.”

Cole shivered as the cool water lapped at his heels. He went farther in until he was an arm’s length away from Dorian. The mage guided him until they faced the thin line of the setting sun with the shore at their backs. Dorian placed his chin on Cole’s shoulder and put his hand on either side of Cole’s waistline. He’s solid and safe with the mage’s naked chest against his back and anchored in Dorian’s arms. When he warmed up considerably, Dorian guided them until they kneeled in the silk soft land under the lake. Dorian held his wrists and made long, sweeping movements, bending the water to their will, sending ripples to faraway places.

Dorian’s stubble caught on Cole’s cheek as one of the mage’s hands splayed flat on Cole’s abdomen. “That’s really all there is to it. We’ll get to the actual ‘not drowning’ part when the sun’s not setting on us.”

Cole turned in the mages arms and sunk deeper until he was submerged in the cool grasp of the lake. The shards of fading sunlight danced around him like pieces of the fade. The few brave emerald and Sapphire colored fish flirted around him. The silent rush of water filled his senses. Dorian’s strong arms surround him and brought him back up into the waking world. The mage smiles at him and Cole presses their lips together. He pulled back quickly, remembering who they were around.

“Sorry.” Cole said. Dorian’s smile widens and kisses him back with twice the force. Cole gasps in shock before wrapping his arms around the mage’s neck. When his lungs are starved for breath, Cole pulls back and watches the hill behind the mage. The Inquisitor, Varric, Solas and almost every inquisitor soldier was watching them. His stomach cramped.

“Don’t be angry.” Cole said. “Their eyes are sticking—“

“Then let’s give them a show, shall we?” Dorian gripped the small of his back in warning and crushes their lips together. Their kiss is as deep as the water they were baptized in. Cole’s tongue caressed the tiny ribcage at the top of Dorian’s mouth. The mage consumes him. He is a willing sacrifice.

Silence isolated the camp as they trudged back, their clothes weighed them down. For once, Dorian isn’t smirking. His expression is unreadable as he entered the tent without so much as glancing at their companions. Cole stood outside it, his stomach rolling with sickness, though that couldn’t stop the light in his chest. The happiness of their bonding exposed. He went to the red tree trunk where he and Solas stored their belongings. He stripped and changed into warmer clothes.

“I can assume Dorian was the mysterious lover you mentioned?” Solas asked. Cole turned as he put on his nightshirt.

“Yes. I wanted it.”

“What is it exactly you wanted?”

“I wanted to love him and make love to him.” Cole said.

“This…indiscretion could twist you into something else. You are a spirit of compassion. Don’t forget your purpose.”

“I am human and I still want to help the hurt and save the small.”

“ _More_ human, Cole. As in not fully.” Solas said. “Compassion is fragile, rare. May I ask why it is Dorian you have chosen?”

“Because I love him and he needs me.”

“There it is.” Solas said. “It is entirely possible for you to have confused love with soothing the pain of his relationship ending with the inquisitor. How goes your attempt to ease it?”

“He…sleeps a lot. When he sleeps, the sorrow does too. Sickly sweet drink dims the hurt and makes him hum.” Cole said. “Though, he kissed me in front of everyone today. So he loves me back.”

“That does not always mean anything, Cole.” Solas placed his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Suppose you can’t help him and he tires of whatever is between you two. What would you do?”

“He wouldn’t.”

“If he does, would you accept it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he made me real. I’m not me anymore without him.” Cole said. “I feel myself fading, fleeting, falling when I’m not with him. It’s like drowning. When I kiss him, it’s like dragging air into starving lungs after breaching the surface of a deep, dark well. I couldn’t be forgotten by him. I couldn’t survive it.”

“I suppose he would not either.” Solas said. “This reminds me of our talks about the White Spire.” Solas knelt on the ground, guiding Cole down with him. “The way you felt after failing to help the real Cole. You turned to violence when your help proved in vain.”

 “But I’m not a spirit. I’m real.” Cole said. “I won’t hurt people. I will never be that again.”

“Please understand. I am not saying this to upset you. I just want you to be sure of your motivations as well as his.” Solas lights his staff with a graceful turn of his wrist. The white light illuminated the few droplets of rain, turning them into tiny falling stars. “I am concerned this will not end well. Tell me about this relationship.”

“What do you want to hear?” Cole slumped against the bloody wood.

“What does he do for you? Don’t tell me how he makes you feel.”

“He buys me clothes and combs my hair. He lets me share his room and tries to get me to eat. He lets me make love to him and he teaches me how to be real.”

“And what do you do for him?”

“I cook, I draw his baths, I help him get dressed. I do other things as well.”

“Yes?”

“I tell him what I hear.”

“He does not have you acting as I spy, I hope.”

 “No? He wants to know if everyone’s happy.”

“Did he tell you that or did you come to that conclusion on your own?”

 “I, no. He didn’t tell me that.”                

“Cole.” Solas enhanced the light around them, isolating them in an orb as bright as day. Cole no longer felt the pricks of raindrops falling on him. “This is what I feared. He has you acting as his slave…or his pet.”

 “No.”

“I know it’s hard to understand. For all intents and purposes he may not even realizes he’s doing it.”

“Stop. This hurts.”

“Cole.” Solas grasped his hand. “I apologize. I never meant to cause harm.”

“No. You didn’t do it wrong. I need to do it right.” Cole said. “I don’t understand. What would you have me do?”

“Talk to him. Ask him the question I know you’ve been holding back out of fear. If he’s evasive, leave. Though, if you corner him fast enough, even Dorian will tell the truth.”

 “Corner him? Where?”

“It’s a matter of speech, Cole. It means you must not settle for anything less than complete honesty.”

 “I can’t do that.”

“Ask for what you want or leave?”

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“If you need me to accompany you when you confront him, I will.”

 “No. I have to do it alone. I need to. I need to.”

“I understand.” Solas said. “You are a very rare soul, Cole. If this does not go the way you have hoped, you can find another love. Life is rich with it, if you let it be.”

*

Cole entered the cool, dry tent. He once again stripped off his damp clothes. He laid down next to Dorian and wasted no time spooning against the still mage.

“ _Kaffas!_ You’re freezing. Get your hands off me.” Dorian’s voice was clear as a bell. It was nice to know he didn’t wake him. Cole did as he was told. Dorian turned to lie on his back.

“Hello.” Cole said. “I talked to Solas.”

 “Of course you did. I’d wager the elf wanted to know if I was molesting his dear spirit of compassion.” Dorian said. “I hope you told him you bent me over every table in the library—sometimes while he studied below us.”

“He didn’t ask.”

“He will.” Dorian said. “And when he does, tell him I let you come inside me every time.”

Cole’s face burned. “I don’t think he’ll ask that.”

“When Varric sticks his broken nose in it, tell him that his ‘kid’ could swallow cock in league with the finest prostitutes.”

“Dorian.”

“And Lord Trevelyan, when he no doubt comes to speak with you, tell him that I get on my knees for you. I _never_ did that for him.”

“Dorian, stop.” Cole said, weaving his fingers through the mage’s. Dorian took a deep, shuddering breath. Cole rubbed his thumb against the back of Dorian’s hand. “You say these things to shock, soften, sullen the hurt.”

“Yes. I’m sorry, _Amatus,_ I interrupted you.” Dorian said as he placed his arm over his eyes. “What did you and the apostate hobo speak of?”

Cole coughed, the fluid swished in his lungs as he ate his nervousness. “It’s nothing.”

“Are we letting it go? My, that’s a first for you. I’m certain you’re just bubbling with questions.”

“Yes. They can wait.” Cole said. “I’m glad we told them. Will we be able to tell everyone back home? Like Sera.”

“I’ve always wondered about your fascination with that imp. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were smitten.”

“I did like her because she is honest though I've always loved you.”

“My, should I be jealous? Threaten to claw her eyes out if she so much as looks at you? I am willing to defend your honor, dearest.”

Cole smiled, getting used to Dorian’s sarcastic tongue. “No. I love you and she doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

“Well of course she doesn’t—“

“Because she’s afraid I will hurt her.”

Dorian chuckled. “You should put your mind at ease. You wouldn’t be her type even if you didn’t leave her shaking in her tiny boots.”

“Why?”

“How can you be so in tuned and then let it all vanish to the wind?” Dorian asked. “Never matter. I’m glad we told them as well. The look on their faces when they realized you are mine now, not their little spirit or kid, brought me such glee. Although I’m not certain how I’ll feel about it in the morning.” Dorian cuddled against him. “In the meantime, though, I could use a kiss or something more—if the mood strikes you as well.”

 “But they know now.”

“Which gives it an air of exhibition.” Dorian said. “If they didn’t understand before, the sounds I’ll ring out of you tonight will make them.”

“Will they know it more after?”

“They won’t be able to get it out of their heads, _Amatus_.”

*

Cole awoke to the waves of fog in his head and hurried voices. The smells of stale coffee and burning flesh buries the sage smell of the forest.

“I’m a prowling pederast. You know me so well.”

“Calm down. I wasn’t saying that, sparkler.” Varric said.

“Well what were you implying? There is very little ways I could interpret the accusation of me being interested in Cole for his naivety.” Dorian said.

“All I was saying is that he doesn’t understand love and lust. He doesn’t even understand that—hey, kid. How’re you doing?”

Cole squinted against the stabbing sunlight. “I am good, Varric and hello Dorian. Please stop fighting.”

 “We’re not fighting, just hammering some stuff out, is all.” Varric said.

“Yes. He was just ‘hammering out’ some information about us. Wondering if I tricked you into using your very talented tongue on me.”

“Shit—you know what? Never mind. Kid, if you want to talk, you know where I’ll be.” Varric walked off across the camp.

“You didn’t have to do that. He wanted to help.” Cole said as he walked to the simmering cauldron. He dipped a towel in the warm water and put it on his face in an effort to stave off the morning and fullness in his chest.  
  
“He needs to tend to his own affairs.” Dorian said before erupting into a coughing fit. He spit something slimy into a silk handkerchief. “Why is it easier to believe blood magic and binding was involved rather than believing you want to be with me of your own free will?”

“He said you bound me?”

“Well, no, but I can tell he was thinking it.”

“He wasn’t.” Cole said. He left Dorian by the fire to gather his things. He put on his clothes and armor and placed his daggers in their holsters. He felt the stares of the inquisitor soldiers. Too many pains assaulted his mind. The side of his head ached with them. His limbs pained in time with his heartbeat, his face was too warm. He placed his hat on, the pounding in his head dulled by the coverage from the sun. His nose was felt like he’d scraped it with rocks. He couldn't breathe through it. He turned back toward the camp. Dorian was missing, probably back in the tent, while the Inquisitor and Varric sat around the fire, eating their breakfast. He idly wonders where Solas got off to before settling between his two companions.

“Cole.” The Inquisitor smiled and held out an empty plate to him. “You’re going to need a hardy breakfast.”  

“I don’t eat.” Cole said.

“Yeah, I forget.” The Inquisitor took the plate back. “So, I take it you didn’t sleep much last night. Are you alright?”

“Stop. I know what you’re doing. I don’t like it.” Cole said. “If you want to know something, ask.”

“Sorry, Cole. It’s just odd thinking of you doing _that_ and with Dorian.”

“We are happy and not hurting anyone.”

“We know, kid.” Varric said. “It’ll take some time getting used to, is all.”

 “I just didn’t think you had any interest in those…worldly type of things. How did you and him—never mind.” The Inquisitor said. “If I can help you with anything or if you have any questions—“

“I do! Thank you.” Cole said.

“How come I feel like I just signed my own death warrant?” The Inquisitor asked. “Well daylight is burning. We need to get on our way.”

“Yes.” Cole said. They sat in silence as the Inquisitor handed his dishes to a waiting scout. The birds sang tuneless songs. The dull roar of conversation surrounded them. The hiss of the tide rushing in on the shore. The soothing whisper of the wind. “Trevelyan, you said I can ask questions.”

“I did say that, a few seconds ago, actually.” The Inquisitor took a deep breath. “But Cole—“

“If you love Dorian, why did you leave? I don’t understand.”

The inquisitor sighed and Varric chuckled. “Well, your Inquisitorialness, you should’ve been expecting this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) As you probably can tell by now I love naughty, sad and painful words/arguments almost as much as sex scenes. I hope it's not getting old.  
> 2) Thank you all for encouraging me to write this fanfiction. A lot of terrible things have been happening in my life. Writing this fanfiction and coming back to all your wonderful comments is one of the few shining beacons that's going on for me right now. Also, it's exhilarating to know you guys are reading it and I'm not just screaming into the void. I love knowing what you guys think.  
> 3) This chapter was longer but I had to cut it into two because it ran like six thousand and some change words. I'm sure I'll still be working on this fanfiction when I'm in hell. Join me at the river Styx buffet. We can shed our skin and go for a dip.  
> 4) The italicized poetry is from 'Siren's song' by William Browne.  
> 5) Should I tag this fanfiction with obsession because of Cole's creepiness or is he not creepy enough? If you see any other tags you think I'm missing, suggest it to me. Thank you kindly, my lovely companions.  
> 6) Pretend Emerald Graves has a big beautiful lake. Just pretend with me, gentle dreamers  
> 7) The only real issue to me in this fanfiction (well besides me getting my present and past tenses all skewed) is that every one seems OOC? I guess it's because it was a emotional week or whatever in Skyhold. :(  
> 8) As always, forgive me for my terrible grammar mistakes. I do most of my writing at night and because of my crippling anxiety I post it before I lose my nerve. As always, I'll come back and fix it often. Thank you for all of your wonderful support.  
> 9) I hope this doesn't come off as boring. I'm trying to make their relationship reveal itself as a normal one would :(


	9. Asymmetry

 “Dorian, am I dying?”

Cole was lost in a sea of blankets and pillows on the mage’s plush bed. His voice was gritty with sickness. His throat was itchy. His head was in a vice. His hair was stuck to his forehead by sticky, cold sweat despite the fact that his body was on fire. His bones ached with every movement. His lips were flaky with dry breath since he couldn’t breathe through his nose. Solas attributed their sickness to Influenza brought on by their dip in the lake. It was just another thing he blamed Dorian for. Another reason to be opposed to their coupling.

“Of course.” Dorian said as he took the kettle from the fire. “Go toward the light, Cole. Tell Andraste her favorite mage says _Avanna_.”

“Oh.” Cole said. “To die would be an awfully big adventure*. I can return to the fade and tell everybody what I learned. Will you come with me?”

“Ha. Only you would say something that adorable and horrifying at the same time.” Dorian poured the amber liquid into a teacup and sat on the edge of the bed next to Cole. He held out the steaming cup.

“No.”

“Cole, drink it.”

“No.”

“Why must you be so obstinate when it comes to food? This is your second most infuriating trait.”

“Second?”

“The first is your need to ask an endless barrage of questions. Drink it.”

“You should drink it, Dorian. Solas said you are influenza as well.” Cole got off the bed, ignoring his protesting body. He took the teacup from Dorian, who obviously had given up on Cole drinking it and went to the counter. He sprinkled cinnamon and hazelnut in the tea and handed it to Dorian.

“I _have_ Influenza, Cole. I am not Influenza.” The mage sipped the liquid. “Delightful. However did you—“

“Tea warm like his lips. Liquid sweet as honey and the first rush of affection. ‘ _Is this how they make tea in the Free Marches? My, maybe it’s not such a slum after all_.’”

“Here we are again.” Dorian said as he sat the cup on the nightstand. The tea turned bitter in his mouth. _My fault_. “Cole, I’m going to lie down. If you’re not going to join me, run along, will you?”

“ ~~Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me saying funny things to the stars.”*~~ Cole ate the unknown words. He settled for something more obvious: “Come to the sun, Dorian. You’ll wilt if you don’t.” He left the bed and put on his too heavy hat. He pulled on his shoes. The mage’s gold skin was turning to the color of sand on the desolate bank.

“I’m not a flower. If I’d be anything it’d be a cobra who spits fire and glitter.” Dorian said as he pulled the blanket over his head. “Now run along.”

*

The training space was empty as he released Joseph into it— _Tempers burning like a village ablaze. There will be sadness here if I am not. If they can’t pretend fight here, the Templar won’t die_ —Cole crawled after the hare but was hit by a wave of dizziness. His stomach rolled like waves rushing in on the shore. He curled up in the middle of the training area, pulling his knees up to his stomach. His lily white nightshirt turned brown with earth. He fingered a nearby dandelion as his vision blurred and his thoughts raced. He’s louder now, his mind often blocking out the hurt in others to feed on his own. He keeps hurting Dorian. His efforts to help make it worse. He didn’t understand the Inquisitor’s explanation for a love that is still there but somehow not.

_“If you love Dorian, why did you leave? I don't understand.”_

_The Inquisitor stared out into the endless blue of the lake. “We had no future. The only thing we had in common is uncertainty. Uncertainty that we’d live to stop Corypheus. Existential dread is a powerful aphrodisiac. We weren’t actually in love.”_

_“He was. He is.” Cole’s stomach sank with something akin to jealousy. “You promised him forever.”_

_“He forced me to.” The Inquisitor rubbed his eyes. “I was a coward. I needed a touch that didn’t come from a blade, arrow or angry magic. He was willing. I couldn’t tell him no.”_

_“Oh.” Cole said. “Did you ever love him?”_

_“This is not the time.” The Inquisitor said._

_Varric put his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Hey, kid. Maybe you should let this go, huh?”_

_“I'm hurting you. I’m sorry.”_

_The Inquisitor stood up and inhaled the salty breeze. “No. It was a good question. Just…I promise I'll explain it to you when we get back to Skyhold. Is that all right?”_

_“Yes.”_

They’ve been back at Skyhold for two days and the Inquisitor hasn't sent for him.

“So, laying in a field, doubled over in pain while wearing a dress.” Iron Bull said. “Seems about right.”

“The Iron Bull.” Cole said. “It’s not a dress. Dorian said this sleepwear is ‘all the rage’ in Minrathous. What does ‘all the rage’ mean?”

“No clue. Are you good?”

“Yes. I am good. I am Influenza.”

“You ‘have’ Influenza.” Iron Bull said. “Shit, you’re paler than usual. Didn’t think that was possible.”

“Am I dying? Dorian said I am.”

“Nah, you’re not dying. Don’t believe a thing the vint says. He lives on a diet of sarcasm and foppishness.”

“Oh.” Cole said. “Do you see Joseph? I can’t move to look at her.”

“Oh yeah, you’re bunny’s doing her thing.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure. Well, up you go.” Before Cole knew it, he was hoisted over the Qunari’s shoulder and staring at the muddied ground. His limbs hang uselessly in the air.

“Don’t leave Joseph.” Was all he could think of to say.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, kid.”

*

His cheek was scratched by Joseph’s coarse fur as he laid on padded pillows in the corner of Herald’s Rest. The tavern was bustling with a menagerie of citizens all seeking an escape in drink and comradery. They moved along like they didn’t notice him at Iron Bull’s and Krem’s feet.

“I love her and she doesn’t care what I used to be.” Krem’s words slushed together from liquor. “She’s an older elven lass with coca dark skin and that mess that Dalish has on her face. She understands, chief. We like the same sort of things.”

“Ah, but how are the tits?”

“Amazing.” Krem said, lifting his mug in worship to his ample bosomed goddess.

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” Iron Bull finished off his drink. Krem looked down, his face red, his hair mussed.

“Hey, lad.” Krem greeted him. “Morning. Want a drink?”

“He doesn’t do that, Krem.” Iron Bull said. “Though, judging by the look on his face, he should.”

“Aye, he looks seasick, doesn’t he?” Krem said. “Are you all right, kid?”

 “Hello, Krem.” Cole said. “I am good. I am Influenza.”

“ _Have_.” Iron Bull added.

Krem smiled and watched Cole for a while before finishing off his drink. “Well, there’s a training dummy who needs a good beating.” Krem stood and stretched until something popped. “Farewell, lad. You should smile more.” Krem left them with a wave of his hand.

“The Iron Bull.” Cole said. He gathered his strength and hoisted himself up on Krem’s former chair. “Was I sleeping long?”

“More like in a coma, but not really. Half an hour, at best.”

“Oh.”

“I can help you with the Influenza if you want.”

“Yes.”

“It involves a lot of punching.”

“No thank you.”

“Your loss.” Iron Bull shrugged. “So, I heard Dorian made a whole thing out of announcing you two were sleeping together. Typical egotistical vint.”

“It’s more.”

“More what?”

“More than lovemaking.”

“Glad to hear it. Solas was as cold as always but he’s crying on the inside.”

“He shouldn’t be sad. I am happy, hopeful for once. Loved and labeled as the tempestuous weather writes ‘I love you’ with his teeth on my skin.”

“Uh, yeah. Good for you.” Iron Bull said. “I wouldn’t worry about Solas. It doesn’t take much to make the elf’s ears red.”

 “He thinks Dorian is using me.”

“Everyone’s using somebody. Way the world works. You gotta get your happiness where you can. Don’t make it weird by overthinking it.”

“I will try.” Cole said. The citizens oozed together, moving as one entity. Their secret pains weighed on his mind, all sounding like the dull roar of cresting waves. “If you were his scratch, The Iron Bull, why did he give you teeth?”

“Focus, I can’t understand your weird little language.”

“ _Here you go, you big oaf. I didn’t actually kill the dragon but somebody did and I had resources to get it. No, don’t touch me there, I’m sore_.” Cole said. “Dorian said you and him were not bound. Why did he give you a dragon’s tooth?”

“Hey, don’t do your thing. Just tell me next time.” Iron Bull said. “The vint down played it huh? Yeah, we were good after he and the boss called it quits. I wouldn’t give him what he wanted so he threw a hissy fit and left. Thought we’d be better off keeping it casual.”

“He wanted love.”

“And to be worshipped and to be babied and showered with gifts. Not what I do. I give people I care about what they need. He needed to get over the boss. I tried to do it. I wasn’t fast enough, apparently.”

“Oh. What did he need, specifically? I hear it in his mind but it's like looking in a window while a storm rages outside. The feelings are muddled, mixed. I don't understand.”

“He needs to know the world doesn't revolve around his and the boss’ relationship. He needs to know there are other people. You gotta slip those simple truths between hard fucks to make it interesting.”

“Can you teach me to give him what he needs?”

“Ha, seriously? I would pay to see you try to do what I do.”

“Yes. I want to make him happy.”

“This is gonna be good. I wish I could see his face when you try this.” Iron Bull said. “I take it you never heard of role playing?”

*

Dorian was still a lump under the plush sheets when he got back. Cole put the hare in her box and washed his hands. He changed into a fresh nightshirt.

“Cole.” Dorian greeted, pulling the blanket off his head. “Always a sight for sore eyes. I see you didn’t lock the door.”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Dorian said. “Now, play quietly over there, will you? I’m taking a nap—“

“No.” Cole said. He took as deep a breath as his sickness allowed. He steeled his nerves and crawled over Dorian, ignoring the mage’s noises of discomfort, until he got to the window and flung the curtains open. Buttery light flooded the room, causing all the shiny things Dorian collected over the years to blink at once.

Dorian groaned like a vampire exposed to the sun before dragging Cole down and straddling him. He pinned Cole’s hands against the headboard. “What has gotten in to you? You will pay for that.”

“I…hope so?” Cole said, channeling his inner Iron Bull. “You are sorry, sad and sullen. You don’t need to be. What you need is…me?”

“I can’t tell if you’re angry, uncertain or being naughty.” Dorian said, releasing him and moving to lay next to Cole. “But do stop bothering me. I’m tired.”

“Me too. Tired of your…sorryness?”

“Ah, so Bull knows about us?” Dorian asked sardonically. “He said those exact words to me right before he bought out the gag. Looks like I have to give him a stern talking to for poisoning you against me.”

“He knew first though Sera says everybody knows now.” Cole said. “Laughter like bells as she sees the strings that tie to you and I. ‘ _Odd pair, innit? I couldn’t think of my creepy doing the dirty but, but I listened and it’s funny because it’s like a carpenter yelling at his clumsy apprentice. Wham! Too hard!—I’m sorry, Dorian—Whack, Whack! Too fast!—Sorry—POW! POW! POW! Yes, steady like that, good lad._ ’ I see the dimples deepen her smile, her full lips pink like the first azaleas of spring. ‘ _Guess you got no problem with him bedding half the inquisition, yeah?’_

“Even better. I see the imp has been spying on my affairs.” Dorian sighed. “Did she happen to mention where she was when she caught the matinee of our show?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Splendid.”

“Dorian, I want you to be happy. The Iron Bull said this will make you happy.”

“What exactly will make me happy? Threatening, berating and mocking me? Savage.”

“No. I can’t explain. You have to experience it.” Cole took another deep breath and straddled Dorian.

Dorian gasped. “Ah! I’m practically wasting away from this fever. You’re too heavy right now.” The mage raked his fingernails up Cole’s exposed thighs anyway. He rolled Cole’s nightshirt until his hips were exposed. Cole leaned in and steadied himself by holding on to the headboard.

“Please don’t force my father to leave his land. It’s the only source of income we have. I can…convince you not to?” Cole tilted his head back and rolled his hips against Dorian’s, the heat already rising between his legs.

“What?”

“I will do anything, Lord Pavus.”

Dorian laughed. “The innocent farm boy and the lecherous noble landowner? This is odd. You would play the part of the innocent farm boy so well. The thought makes me feel dirty.”

“The Iron Bull said I need to make you feel in control.”

“Feel? I am in control.” Dorian said. “Besides, he wasn’t singing that tune when he was holding me down and—never mind.”

“No, he said it’s different between you and me. He called us asymmetrical. What does that mean?”

“It means that you need to get on with whatever you’re doing or get off me. I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh, sorry.” Cole said. “If you don’t like this game, we can play the Tevinter Pirate and Governor Trevelyan except I’ll be Cole-governor.”

“Ah, took a drink from my head, did you?” Dorian sighed.

Cole pushed down his nervousness. _Sadness. My fault_. “We can play the Qunari raider and the frightened vint noble. I will be Cole-noble. You can be Qunari-Dorian.”

“Aw, you’re trying your best. I adore you.” Dorian said, cupping Cole’s neck. “Though I loathed to do this to you, young man, but nothing is free. I’ll give you a choice in how to pay your dues.”

“Yes.” Cole said, the heat rushing to his stomach. “I will give you sex?”

Dorian flipped them over and wasted no time unbuttoning Cole’s nightshirt. Dorian shed his own. The rush of sticky, sick skin on skin made Cole’s stomach roll, but he didn’t dare stop it. Dorian pressed their chapped lips together and raked his fingernails up Cole’s ribs. Cole groaned into the kiss and dug his heels into the small of Dorian’s back. Dorian pulled back looking hungry and thoughtful. He seemed to decide against _something_ and they rolled over again, almost slipping off the edge of the bed until Cole was on top. The mattress is bare now, all the pillows and sheets make a pool of red wine on the floor with their clothing. Cole pulls back when his lips are raw.

“I hear harrowed things in your mind but it’s like a fluttering, flowing song underwater. I don’t understand it. Tell me what you need.” The mage’s damp palms slide up Cole’s back.

Dorian sighed, grinding his hips up against Cole’s. “Is this a part of the game or are you actually asking?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Both.”

“What I need, Cole, is for you to get moving. I’m an impatient man.”

Cole puts his arms under Dorian’s knees. He kissed Dorian and swallowed the mage’s broken sob as he pushes in.

“There, yes.” Dorian tilted his head back, offering his throat. Cole scrapes his teeth across his jugular and pushes deeper. “Ah, too hard.” Dorian put a hand on Cole’s chest. Cole nodded, lost barely coherent over his pleasure. “Slow down, good, better—touch me like I taught you.”

Cole slipped a hand between them and stroked the hard flesh there. Dorian’s toes curled against Cole’s sides. For long moments it’s just the slap on slap of skin, sighs and moans, hitching and sex-stupid noises. Cole lost in the hot clench of Dorian’s body. The groaning of the bed, the steady beat of the headboard against the thin walls. He drags beautiful noises from the mage in a way he couldn’t before.

“Mmm, young man, you’re doing a fine job.” Dorian nips lightly at Cole’s lips, his breathing labored. “You seem like no stranger to this— _yes, yes, there_ —behavior.”

“Yes, my lord.” Cole panted against the corner of Dorian’s lips.

“My, maybe I should introduce you to five of my friends.” Dorian flexed under him and dragged the heel of his foot down the small of Cole’s back. “What would you say to that?”

“I don’t know.”

Dorian chuckled before gasping and clenching around Cole. His eyes were shut tight, his mouth wet, shiny and open, his face flushed, even more so because of this fever, and his eyebrows were furrowed. Cole slammed in and Dorian arched his back. The hot, sticky substance coated Cole’s hand. Cole pulled back slightly to survey the ribbon of come on his fingers. He’ll never get used to the feeling. Dorian pulled Cole down for a kiss, causing him to slide deeper into the pliant mage. He groaned against Dorian’s lips. He tucked his forehead into the wet hallow of Dorian’s shoulder, his thrusts harder and faster. Dorian hissed, his hand knotted in Cole’s hair and the other one pressed against Cole’s abdomen. The mage bit back a word— _Katoh_ —it rings loud in Cole’s head. Cole pushed down the seasick jealousy and begin to pull back only to be stopped by Dorian’s arms around his neck. Cole seized, his orgasm ripping him apart. He plants a sloppy kiss to the sharp cut of Dorian’s jaw. He stays there, trying to pull breath into his constricted with sickness lungs. He rolls off Dorian, and sprawls out next to him.

They lay there, skin feverish and sticky with flop sweat and come. Cole’s skin itches and he can’t decide if the full body ache is from sickness or sex or both.

“That didn’t work out the way you hoped, did it?” Dorian said, his switchblade smile in full effect.

“No. You were supposed to take me.”

“Yes, I know. Delightful, these little surprises.” Dorian pressed his chapped lips against Cole’s cheek. “Do be careful what you wish for, Amatus. Having me inside you isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. I’m not a nice man and I'm very, very impatient.”

“You like it.”

“Yes, though it took me a while. It’s rather painful the first time.” Dorian said. “I can’t remember his name, but he was one of my father’s slaves, older than me. My father, being my father, chastised him harshly for breaking a plate. Left the poor lad crying. I took him to my room to ‘cheer him up’.”

“How did you? Did you untangle the hurt by telling him your father’s way of showing he cares—“

“With sex, Cole. Sex—“

 “As an act of rebellion.” Cole only half understood the words that came out of his own mouth. “Revenge against father’s ridged rules. Sex as a weapon.”

“Very astute. I wasn't going to say that, but it's true. If I had a cookie, I’d give it to you.” Dorian cuddled against him, their feverish skin stuck together. “As we were saying before you took a dip into my psyche; it hurt—though something about it made me want to try it again. And you know me, I’m nothing if not determined. Second time went swimmingly. Picked up a gentleman who specializes in that sort of thing—taught me the ends and outs. Nice fellow. Maybe I should send for him. Maybe he’ll teach you.”

“No.”

“I’m not serious. That was supposed to seductive.”

“It wasn’t.” Cole said. “What became of Flavius?”

“Who?”

“Your father’s servant you made love to?”

“Of course you know his name.” Dorian’s chuckle erupted into a coughing fit. Cole patted him on his back while the mage hacked up bile into a silk handkerchief. Dorian sighed and settled back on the bare bed. “I freed him, thinking we’ll be together and he left sometime in our very first night. I was naïve. I should’ve learned right then that no one stays unless for personal gain. No, being the stubborn boy I was, I had to repeat the same mistake countless times until I learned not to hope for more. I’m sorry, Amatus. I didn’t mean to talk your ear off.”

“Please keep talking.”

“I think you enjoy seeing me suffer.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t serious.”

“Please keep talking.”

“All right. Well, what more is there to say? I thought the good Lord Trevelyan was different. He made me believe I could be his cup of tea and-and how am I good enough and then just not?”

“He made the word ‘love’ an obscenity.”

“Yes. I will never be fooled again by that horrid word.” Dorian covered his eyes with his arm. “Can we talk about something else? Anything else?”

“Yes.” Cole said. “I won’t leave. The word which means so much to so many can twist, turn, tear until it’s tangled in sadness. I will try to untangle it. I’ll…try to wait until you can love me. I won’t leave.”

“You can’t promise that.” Dorian said as he pulled the blanket up to his shoulders. “Just as I can’t promise I’ll stay. Let us enjoy this while it’s here.”  
  
“Why can’t it last?”

“Because nothing lasts forever. We are no exception. It has to end.” Dorian took a shuddering breath. “But not today. I couldn’t let you go today.”

Cole tilted his forehead against the nape of Dorian’s neck. He inhaled the vague memory of strawberries hidden under the heavy musk. He snaked his arms around Dorian’s midsection. The Mage was hotter than usual, due to his fever. Their sweaty skin stuck together like Velcro. The Mage twined their fingers together, pressing Cole’s palm on to his abdomen.

“I love you so much it hurts. You made me want to exist. You’re engraved in my soul like words on a tombstone. I’ll never let you leave. ” He whispered into the mage’s skin.

 “Cole?”

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) ~~I'm honestly thinking about ending it here because this fanfic is going on for a long time. My only issue is I feel like there are loose ends. I got to re-read the whole thing to see what they are tho.~~  
>  **My anxiety that this fic would become lame if I let it stretch on so much made me think about ending it. I seriously still want to write this so I will continue. Thank you for sticking with me, friends. I want to buy you all 7-ups.**  
>  2) This is not a fanfiction, it's a coping method for me. I have so much to say about this couple. I didn't know I would love them so much.  
> 3) The sentences with the asterisk's (*) by it are quotes from Peter Pan.  
> 4) I've never romanced Dorian because I only played as a girl Inquisitor so far so if he spun a tale about his first time or whatever and this is wrong please forgive me.  
> 5) You guys were so nice to me. I seriously feel like you all are my friends and you live in my basement with me. I thank you all for your condolences and reading this mess of a fanfiction. Your support and general awesomeness made me cry. [](http://s255.photobucket.com/user/InvaderMAL/media/tumblr_n13is8l5xE1qzhnmco1_250_zpsncbmkzfh.gif.html)


	10. Tangle of Thorns

The clouds were rosy with sunlight as the morning crept upon them. The dying summer flowers flaunted their bright colors around their modest camp. Far off trees rattled with autumn wind and sent the fallen leaves to them. The vast, desolate camp was on straight dry earth that would’ve went on forever, if not for the interruption of scarred ruins and the  black skeleton of trees.

The night had been tame. No curdling groans of beasties. No men in armor or slaves to magic. Dorian had woken Cole up with chaste kisses on his forehead and asked Cole to come away with him. They brought a few blankets and lanterns to a stretching field, hallowed by tall, dying trees. They had circled the lanterns around their earth-bed to protect them from the predawn dark. The stars spread as far as they can see. They winked and danced around a glossy, haloed moon.

The Inquisition tents sketched on a paper skyline a dozen feet behind them. They had to talk low or the wind would carry their voices and wake the camp.

Dorian had Cole on his back. The mage weighed him down with his hips between Cole’s thighs. Their lips met leisurely, spit easing their friction, while their tongues touched ever so gently, tasting the sourness of morning. Dorian sped up, rubbing his clothed hardness against Cole’s. The mage’s breath came out in rushed, small puffs of clouds in the bitter morning. Cole moved his hips up to meet the mage’s. Dorian got to his knees and leaned slightly until his hand was by the side of Cole's head, steadying himself. He stuck his other hand in Cole’s too tight trousers and wrapped his fingers around his cock. Cole cried out, startling a squirrel. His voice carried across the fields.

Dorian chuckled low, never stopping his tight strokes. “Quiet, love. You wouldn't want the entire inquisition camp coming over and seeing you with your cheeks flustered, moaning like a prostitute. It'll break Cassandra’s heart.”

“Dorian—“

“Cover your mouth.” Dorian said. Cole did as he was told. His spit soon moistened his hand as he muffled his groans. Dorian never stopped planting kisses on every inch of Cole’s face he could reach and working his hand.

The Mage took his hand away. Cole groaned, begging for the freedom of release. Dorian stripped off his own clothes. “Get undressed, we only have a few hours before they awaken.”

Cole sat up and removed his shirt. “It will take us hours this time? Are we going to play a game?”

“No. I have something far better planned. It will take us a bit, though.” Dorian was naked now as the wind kissed goosebumps into his gold-dusted skin. The mage helped Cole remove his trousers. They were as naked as they came.

Dorian reached to the side of their pad and took the bejeweled satchel. He filled his fingers with his infamous rose tinted oils. Cole’s body was trained to respond to the scent. His cock got even harder.

“Lie back, love. Good, now spread your knees.”

The cool earth radiated under him as he watched the lingering stars be devoured by pink-gold through the cracked mirror of the dead tree they were under. Cole gasped when something cold poked at his hole.

“Shh, relax, Amatus.” Dorian said as he pushed his fingertip in further. “Yes, like that.” Dorian pushed until his knuckle was in him. “Are you okay?”

“It hurts—“Cole’s fingers fisted the blankets. “What are we doing?”

“You expressed interest in getting fucked. I only mean to grant you that. If you wish me to stop, you only need to say so.”

Dorian's hot, wet mouth engulfed the tip of his cock. For a moment, Cole didn't notice the Mage had slipped two fingers in him and was now stretching in two direction. The burning and pleasure was in equal measure, it was confusing.

It went on like that for an immeasurable amount of time, with Cole on the cusps of an orgasm but it's being staved off by the pain in his backside. Dorian's warm mouth didn't take him any deeper than the tip. Cole was biting his bottom lip, sweaty despite the chilly winds.

Dorian looked up at him, his wet tongue peeking out to lick pre-come off his full lips. “Amatus?”

“It hurts.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Good lad.” Dorian hooked his fingers and touched something that made electricity shoot through his body.

“Maker—Dorian, please do it again.”

“There we are.” Dorian smiled before licking a hot stripe up the full length Cole’s cock. Cole gasped and clawed at the blanket beneath him. Dorian added a third finger and hit the spot again. Cole arched his back slightly, pushing himself experimentally deeper on to the mage’s fingers. The spot made him leak come and bite his lips. “My, aren’t we eager?”

“Dorian, please—put it inside me.”

“Aw.” Dorian smirked and pushed a little deeper. “Don't tell me you're turning into a little faunlet whore. Or do, I find it arousing.”

Cole felt it all, smothered in the back of the mage’s mind. Dorian crying out when The Iron Bull held him still by his waist and used him from behind. _I'm your vint whore_. He heard it when the mage slammed into the Inquisitor on the war room table. _I’m yours, the Inquisitor is at your feet—Dorian!_ Cole didn’t understand the need to say words that hurt but are twisted into something akin to desire.

“I—I’m your faunlet.”

“ _Little_ _faunlet_.” Dorian twisted his fingers in Cole. He gasped as Dorian hit the spot again.

“I’m your little faunlet—please, Dorian.”

“Good, _for there is no other bliss on earth comparable to that of fondling a ~~nymphet~~ **faunlet**._ ”

The mage removed his fingers and sat up on his knees. His switchblade smirk was in full effect. He took a generous portion into his palm and smeared it on his cock until it was glistening. Cole was lust drunk but still felt the black ball of anxiety in his stomach. He tried to push his knees together but Dorian spread his own knees to pull Cole’s upward. He closed in and tucked his thighs underneath Cole’s. Their cocks glanced off each other and Cole gasped. Dorian used this as an excuse to grip his hips and spread his thighs higher and wider. The mage gripped his own cock and pushed the first inch in.

Cole cried out, only half remembering to cover his mouth. It burned. Dorian stopped, his panting breaking the silence.

“How are you, little faunlet?”

“I don’t know.” Cole said, biting his lips.

“You only need to tell me to stop.”

“No.”

“Well then, push back.”

Cole nodded numbly and pushed his hips. He felt the mage’s grip tighten on his hips as his only warning. He pushed the rest of himself in, as slow as sap dripping from a tree.

Cole hitched at the sudden forcefulness, the length filling him up and stretching him impossibly. Dorian tilted forward and planted one hand on either side of Cole’s shoulders. Cole squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth against the strange mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Look at me, little faunlet.” Dorian said. “Good lad.” Cole hissed when Dorian’s hips snapped against him in an experimental forcefulness. “Am I hurting you? Tell me and I’ll stop.”

“Please don’t.” Cole gripped the mage’s hair.

“Alright. Do speak up if you need anything.”

“Yes. Does it feel good for you?”

Dorian bent his arms until his wet breath was against Cole’s ears. “Yes. You’re so tight, so virginal. I’m taking the last bit of innocence you have. My little faunlet, with the apple of your cheek’s aflame. So angelic in this dream pink morning light. It’s hard to believe if I were to look down, I’d be deflowering you, my hard cock disappearing into your…Maker, sometimes I wish I can share you with four or five gentleman while I watch but the truth is I'm greedy and you’re my little faun.”

Cole drifted numbly in his head, half aware of what the velvet tongue Mage was saying, lust drunk as Dorian pumped pleasure and pain into his body. He jolted when the Mage hit the bundle of nerves inside him and squeezed his thighs. The Mage placed his arms under Cole’s knees and got him where he wanted. He slid deeper inside him and created a steady drumbeat of a rhythm, hitting Cole in the right spot on every other thrust. The Mage leaned in and pressed a dry lipped kiss against Cole’s mouth, muting Cole’s sex-stupid gasps and moans. He was being bent in half by Dorian, Cole’s hips held up by the steel grip of the Mage. The wet slap of skin echoed through his still land like a drum. Cole tangled his fingers in Dorian’s thick hair as the Mage sucked yellowish-violet-violent marks into his neck. Cole lost count after three.

“Maker, how I’ve missed this.” Dorian panted into the wet hollow of Cole’s neck before having yet another mark bitten into his neck. “Being inside someone and a little faunlet, at that. You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?”

“Yes.”

“Even if I were to pound your inexperience hole, stretch you so painfully—“

“I would let you kill me.”

Dorian’s chuckle vibrated through Cole’s body. His hips never stopped working, his cock never stopped splitting Cole open. “It says something rather unfortunate about me that what you just said turned me on, doesn't it?”

 Cole squeezed his thighs against Dorian’s hips as the soft, wet ‘custard’ noises came from between their sweat pebbled and come streaked joining.

“I can't ever be me again without you.” Cole gasped. Dorian pressed a full kiss on his lips, their tongues slicking against each other.

“You are the very picture of desirable. Taking my cock with that doe-eyed, curious look. With your lips parted as if ready for another cock to slip inside that delicious mouth. You make me hungry to devour every last inch of your pureness, to make you as sinful and amoral as I am—at least in flesh.”

Dorian bit an angry red bruise on the curve of Cole’s jaw, before planting another one at the corner of Cole’s lip.

“I own you, faunlet.” Dorian gripped Cole’s cock between them and set a demanding pace. Cole arched his back and gripped Dorian’s shoulders, leaving red trails there on gold skin. Between Dorian’s bittersweet torture of his prostate and his strong, tight strokes, Cole threw his head back and bit his bottom lip as he came—infinity on high, his volume muted, he could only hear his heartbeat in his ears. He came to his senses when Dorian stilled inside of him. The come was spread out mostly on Cole’s stomach with some white strands against Dorian’s abdomen.

Cole’s voice was gritty, his breath ragged. “Dorian.”

The Mage trailed his finger through the come on Cole’s belly. He slid his fingers past his lips and licked it clean. “Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“Mmmhmm”

“You’re not done.” Cole said.

“No. I'll never get enough of you.”

Cole doesn't know how long Dorian continued to thrust in him. He bit back groans and hitches and rode the rough rocking of the mage’s hips. The Mage had guided him on this his hands and knees. He took him from behind while Cole still covered his lips to stay quiet.

The mage slammed into him which wrung a shout of pain from his already abused throat. Dorian mumbled an apology and stilled inside Cole. Dorian gasped and grabbed Cole’s hips, pulling him deep on his cock as he filled Cole.

Dorian pulled out of Cole with a slick pop. They collapsed after that and Dorian wasted no time pulling Cole against himself. They lay like that for a while, panting in the warmth of the autumn sun. The few birds announced mid-morning while the echoing piss sounds of the camp’s Inquisition soldiers also proclaimed the day.

Cole was heavy and every part of his being hurt. He could feel the sting of harsh love bites on his neck and jaw.

“Tell me, Amatus, how do you feel?”

“Sore, sullied, significant.” Cole said as he watched birds against the sun. “Will we do it again?”

“Of course, I’ll soon have you ready for me to take you against the wall. You’re skinny enough.” Dorian said, lighting his pipe. “I love owning you. I can hurt you and you’ll never leave, just like a puppy. I wonder if this is what love really feels like.”

“Is owning me like loving me?”

“I don’t know, but I know this: you’re mine.”

 “Forever?”

“Questions, questions. All your questions.” Dorian sighed. “Let’s head back to camp, shall we?  

“Yes.” Cole said. “I love you, Dorian.”

“Thank you.”

                                                                              *

Cassandra spotted them before they could sneak into their tent.

“Where did you two get off to?” Cassandra asked as she sat on a stump and shined her sword. The seeker took stock of the blankets and lanterns Cole carried. “Nothing that will compromise this mission, I suppose.”

Dorian smirked. “Do you really want to know where we ‘got off’ to?”

Cassandra’s frown deepened. “Why must you be so vulgar, Tevinter?”

“What’s vulgar? I didn’t say what we did while we were away. For all you know I could’ve been singing chantry songs while Cole played along with a flute. You must get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I am sure he was a flutist on _something_ this morning.” Cassandra said. Cole felt the sting of a blush cross his face. He never felt embarrassment as a spirit. He didn’t know how to handle it.

“Oh my, now you’re being fun. I should bend you over and spank you for that naughty tongue.” Dorian smirked. “Or get the Inquisitor to do it for me. He likes that kind of thing.” Dorian left them to weigh on that thought.

Cassandra rubbed her temples before turning to look at Cole. “Why are you squirming? Stop that.”

“Dorian was inside of me.”

“You must learn not to say those sort of things. It is improper.” Cassandra sighed. “So was I. I apologize for my part in that conversation.”  

“You were right.”

“About the flute?”

“No.”

 “I see.” Cassandra said. “So it is true. You and the Tevinter are together.”

“Yes.”

“And you say it is love?”

“Yes. More than love. Its adoration and aspiration. I aspire to be as real as he is.” Cole said.

“Ah, yes. Dorian is certainly a worldly man.” Cassandra said. “How is he doing? I regret there has not been time to talk since what happened. We only trade glibness now.”

“He is stumbling, relearning what it is to be one again when two was too many and there was too much room for three.”

“I see.” Cassandra sighed.

Cole took a deep breath, the words tumble out of his mouth. “Betrayal boils in his belly until it kneads into a knot—‘ _Fasta vass!_ _That scarred harlot. How could she do this?’_

“Please leave my mind, Cole.”

“You kissed the Inquisitor while he was with Dorian. In your mind, he hates you. But you’re doing it wrong. He doesn’t blame you for what happened between him and Trevelyan.”

“He should. Who does he blame if not me?”

“Himself.”

“Oh.”

“No. That didn’t help. I tugged it and I tore it—“

“Be easy, Cole. I will be fine.” Cassandra said. “If I were to bare his scorn, I would take it in stride. It is what I deserve, although, I am more concerned about you right now. You said he is relearning how to be one but you are with him. Why is it not two?”

“Love. The word hurts. It hurts, it hurts. There can't be another when there's so much pain in his, in mine, in the Inquisitor’s space. The hole became bigger with every heartbreak. I don't fit. I won't for a while.”

“I am uncertain how to take that.” Cassandra said. “How do you?”

“On most days I'm fine. But on bad days when you get hurt or I can't help the servant crying alone in the kitchen I'm sad about it. Will I be more if I push hard enough? Or is this task timed and temporary?”

"I would suggest you ask this question to the Tevinter. It is cruel to have you wonder. I should have a talk with him.”

“No. Time will heal. I have faith.” Cole smiled. “It’s you, Cassandra.”

“Excuse me?”

“You want to help me but it should be the other way around.”

“You are human now. It is time for you to accept the kindness of others.”

“Solas said more. Not whole.”

“If you can feel the wind on your face and know the importance of faith and compassion, you are human enough.”

“Thank you.”

“You are always welcome.” Cassandra said. She took a deep breath. “Do not compromise, in battle or love. Always hope for more. You are worth it.”

“Maker loves you and we grow.” Cole said. “We’ll grow and he’ll love me when he can.”

“I suppose, though life is fleeting. The next minute is not promised. Compassion and love is rare and precious. You give it so freely.” Cassandra sighed. “If I have one want for you, it would be for you to experience love in its entirety. Words cannot explain it.”

“Is it like that with you and the Inquisitor?”

“Yes.” Cassandra said. “We have rain like everyone else but it does not matter when we are one. You feel you can do anything with them at your side, that you cannot go on without them and yet, they help you become more of an individual. A better one. The most important thing is they love you with everything.”

“I don't understand.”

“If Dorian is what you think he is, you will.” Cassandra said. “Now, I have stolen much of your time. We must prepare for today’s journey.”  

“Yes.” Cole said. Cassandra stood and placed on her armor. Cole’s hands went to the straps to help her. “Cassandra, you described being real.”

“I did?”

“I want to feel like that. I want to be that. To love and be loved in return. It would make me real.”

“You are real, Cole. You do not need another’s validation.” Cassandra rolled her shoulders. “But as I said earlier, this is for you to discuss with the Tevinter.”

"Yes. You’re right. In both ways.” Cole said as he picked up the blankets. “Goodbye Cassandra, my knives call for me. They want to be sharpened and to kill things that hurt people.”

“It is impolite to keep them waiting then. Walk in the Maker’s light.” Cassandra smiled.  
“Never change, my friend.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The title is from the book Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. (This book so upsetting but his descriptions are amazing).  
> 2) "For there is no other bliss on earth comparable to that of fondling a nymphet" is also from Lolita.  
> 3) I'm sorry this is so sleazy. I don't know what's gotten into me with these sad bleak things. I think it's my hospital stay. I don't know. **IF YOU SEE ANY TRIGGER WARNINGS THAT NEED TO BE ADDED, LET ME KNOW **  
> **  
> **  
>   
>   
>   
>   
>   
> 4) This is unedited. I had to post it before I lost my nerve. I'll edit it later. I just hope the conversations make sense. I do most of my writing at night when I'm delirious.  
>  5) I hope this fanfiction isn't too one note. I feel bad because this is Dorian and Cole's whole relationship: [](http://s255.photobucket.com/user/InvaderMAL/media/cc68817d-782e-484b-a8c6-9b268ea17f61_zpsdvtvg0to.png.html)  
> 6) THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS! They're getting me through this terrible time. You guys are so sweet and amazing. I love you all and I'll answer each and every one of your comments when the stupid wi-fi is up and running. SERIOUSLY, I WISH I CAN BUY YOU ALL TACO BELL.  
> [](http://s255.photobucket.com/user/InvaderMAL/media/7553f19f-3dbb-4c3d-a673-096609a5138a_zpsodc74so0.jpg.html)  
>  **EDIT: APPARENTLY WHEN I DELETED THOSE "DESERTER" CHAPTERS YOUR COMMENTS GOT DELETED TOO. I WANT YOU GUYS TO KNOW THAT I DIDN'T DELETE THEM. I LOVE THEM. I WAS HOPING TO SAVE AND ANSWER THEM BUT AO3 SAID NO.**  
>  7) AND JUST IN CASE THEY DIDN'T SEE IT ON MY OTHER FANFICTION: SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO SINOPE AND PINKCOOKIEDOE FOR KEEPING ME COMPANY!  
> 8) LAVINIAD, I MISS YOU AND THAT WAS MY TUMBLR BUT I DON'T THINK YOU WANT TO FOLLOW ME ON THERE BECAUSE IT'S JUST SOCIAL JUSTICE STUFF AND STUPID PICTURES I FIND FUNNY. IF ANYONE OF YOU FOLLOWED ME ON TUMBLR, YOU CAN UNFOLLOW ME IF YOU WANT. I WILL STILL LOVE YOU ALL AND TALK TO YOU BECAUSE YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME.


	11. White Rabbit, White Room

 

The faint path that led from the spring to the road was endless and lined with dying cedars. The cloudless blue pressed down on them gently as mid-morning autumn winds blew a warm spray of water on to them. The inquisitor and Sera walked ahead, their voices drowned by the meadowlark’s tuneless song. Cole listened to Dorian while chewing on the mage’s unlit pipe.

“Murder, mayhem, betrayal, a dark spawn with a God Complex—it’s all so boring.” Dorian said. “We need something fun. It’s time you had a birthday party.”

Cole took the pipe out of his mouth and handed it to Dorian. “It is? When was I born?”

“I was hoping you’d know.” Dorian lit the pipe with a touch of his fingers. The wispy smoke slid away on the wind.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I was born at all. I wish I did.”

 “I see. Well, what age do you want to be?”

“How old are you?”

“I’ve been twenty eight for ten years.”

“You’re thirty eight.”

“Ah, you didn’t need to state that out loud.”

“Can I be thirty eight too?”

“Of course.” Dorian said. “Happy thirty eighth birthday, Amatus. What would you like to do?”

“What do people usually do for their birthdays?”

“They have cake, parties—things like that.”

“Oh, can we do that?”

“Would you eat cake if I bought it?”

“No.”

“Ah, well then, not that.”

“What do you do, Dorian?”

“I don’t think you’d like what I do, Amatus.”

“I like everything you do.”

“Because everything I do is spectacular.” Dorian said. “I have an idea. I was going to meet up with some gentlemen in Val Royeaux since we aren’t needed for this dreadful business with Josephine. You can join me there.”

“I like making friends.”

“Good.”

“What’re you nutters whisperin’ about?” Sera turned on them and walked backwards to keep up with the Inquisitor and watch them at the same time.

“It’s my birthday.”

“You were born? I thought you crawled out of the fade, yeah?”

“I did.”

“Then how’d you get a birthday?”

“Dorian gave it to me.”

“Yes.” Dorian said as he blew smoke from his lips.

“You two are weird.” Sera said.

“How old are you, Cole?” The Inquisitor asked, not taking his eyes off the path before them.

“Thirty Eight, like Dorian.”

“Ah, I should’ve known you’d betray me, Cole.”

Sera snickered. “What happened to thirty two, old timer?”

“When he joined the Inquisition, he told me he was thirty four.” The Inquisitor said.

“Let’s move on, shall we?” Dorian said.

“You look great for a man your age, Cole.” The Inquisitor said.

“Yeah, unlike granddaddy Pavus here—Oww!” Sera had slipped on a log and fell backwards.

“Oh, dear. I should’ve warned you. Silly me.” Dorian smirked.

“Yeah, well sit on it, you arse.” Sera said as she got up and dusted the dirt off herself.

*

They bid the Inquisitor and Sera farewell as Dorian took Cole’s hands in his.

The _Pour Vous_ was foggy with wispy gray smoke and the lighting was low. An ostentation of women played misery from flutes and lutes.

Dorian’s hand clasped around his and guided him through the screen of nobility until they reached a spider’s web of beads. The mage gave Cole a dry kiss as they went through it.

The woman’s saturnine flesh flickered gold with candlelight, her hair was bone straight and hung like a black curtain. Her eyes were as dark and beguiling as space. She was clothed in a pearl white slip. In her ears, hung diamond chandeliers. Her lips were frosted with the memory of red lipstick, most of it clung in a circle around the gold tipped hose she was holding between her thin fingers.

The two men in the room were mirror images of each other. They had white candlewax skin. They were both shirtless and wore black, glossy pants. Their mass produced faces were handsome with pale blue eyes. Their red, firecracker hair was done up, curls licking their faces like flames.

The room was square and the ceilings were low. The walls were decorated with a crucified menagerie of black moths and crows. The white walls were barely visible behind the shadow of insects and birds. A scrim of snow white furs covered the floors, only a sliver of the cherry wood floors showing.  Counters ran the length of the room, littered with red candles and various hookahs and jars filled with funeral grade flowers and plants Cole has never seen before. There were sun gold pillows sewed against some of the free walls. The perfumed sweat mingled with the noisome scent of incense. The space was brimming with smoke, filling his lungs, thick and stifling as it stole his breath from him. The heat closed in on them like a hot, wet fist. The table stacked with fruits, wines and cakes was in the middle, framing the object that was suffocating the room.

“Dorian, darling.” The woman said in her thick Nevarran accent. “Fashionably late again, I see. We almost started without you.”

“Well, it would’ve been a terribly dull get together, wouldn’t it?”

“I admit, it wouldn’t be a proper Nevarran-Tevinter soiree without your sharp tongue and smallclothes on my floor.”

“Yes.” One of the men said, his accent Fereldan. “Just not the same.”

Dorian put his arm around Cole’s waist and pressed him against himself. “Cole, this dusky beauty is Portia Markhams.”

“Hello.” Cole said. The woman smiled in return.

“And these two gentlemen are Jackson and Johnson Howell.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jackson said.

“Charmed.” Johnson added.

Dorian sat between the twins. Cole stood there, fiddling with his gloves. The death screams of the birds and animals clawed inside his head, the pound of his heart beat in his ears. He broke out into a prickly sweat. He bit his lips, covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut—the screams are tortured and as loud as thunder.  

Dorian crawled to him and pulled him down into a kneeling position. He put his forehead against Cole’s sticky one.

“Cole, open your eyes and look at me.” Dorian’s voice was silky, it’s rare as a pearl in an oyster when the man talks to him like this. Cole pried open his eyes and was mesmerized by the steel gray intensity, how can blue make him so warm? He’s safe in his eyes. “Breathe, Amatus.” Dorian put his warm, dry hand on the side of his throat, and rubbed his thumb on Cole’s chapped lips. “Put your hands down and feel my palm on your face, feel my lips on yours.” Dorian planted a brief kiss before pulling back. Cole dropped his hands down to his sides and breathed out. The noises were still there, but it’s muddled, like he’s submerged in the ocean.

“Thank you.” Cole said. He sat with his back against the wall. Dorian moved to find his place between the two men.

 “Very dramatic.” Portia said. “Is this the boy you wrote me about? He’s very young, Dorian.”

“And odd.” Johnson added. “I thought you were with the Inquisitor?”

“I told you I wasn’t anymore.” Dorian said.

“No you didn’t.” Johnson scratched his head.

“You told me.” Jackson said.

“Ah, I’ll learn the difference between you gentlemen one day.”

“Sure.” They said.

Portia kept her eyes on Cole through the entire exchange. “How old are you?”

“Thirty eight.” Cole said. “It’s my birthday.”

“Thirty eight? You can’t be serious.”

“He isn’t.” Dorian said. “I wrote you about his peculiar existence before. He wasn’t actually born.”

“The demon?” Johnson said. “Why would you bring him here? We’re mages! He could possess us all!”

“I am not like that. I kill the things that hurt people.” Cole said.

“Calm down, John. He has helped the Inquisition in innumerable ways.”

“You wrote me that he’s doing a lot more than just the Inquisition.” Portia said. “New way to embarrass your family, I suppose?”

“Or his latest fetish.” Jackson said.

“Or newest Taboo.” Johnson added.

“Ah, what I get from my affairs is my affair.”

“But how do you sleep with a spirit?” Johnson asked. “He looks a little…plain to be a desire demon.”

“May we talk about this while we smoke?” Portia said. “I’ve been craving for hours.”

They settled in around the small table with the vase like object on it. They spoke of Tevinter, old flames and current lives. Dorian summed up Cole’s existence in a few short sentences. Portia laid her head on Jackson’s shoulder while Johnson nibbled at her ear on the other side of them. Dorian combed his fingers through Cole’s hair and gently turned his head until their lips met. Cole sunk into the warm kiss, his fingers curled in Dorian’s robe. Dorian pulled back a little, leaving a half an inch of space between their lips. “Breathe in,” he whispered, the thumb of his other hand keeping Cole’s lips parted. Cole did, watching as the golden tip disappeared between Dorian’s lips. Gray eyes never left him as Dorian sucked, hints of smoke chasing after the piece as it was removed and their mouths met again. Cole stilled as Dorian blew the smoke into his mouth, deceptively smooth and sweet as it snaked its way down his throat and into his lungs. It burned. Cole coughed, puffs of smoke veiling Dorian’s face before fading away to reveal his grin. “Would you like me to do it again?” Cole nodded. Dorian’s grin grew as he gave him another smoke-filled kiss. He put the pipe between them. “Happy birthday, Amatus.”

Cole took the pipe and mimicked what he saw from the others.  It was smoother this time, his vision blurred and every touch, every graze of Dorian’s fingers, shot stardust into his veins. Fireworks bloomed behind the curtain of his eyes. Dorian lifted his free hand to Cole’s throat. He rested it there, a warm weight against his jugular. He tightened his fingers. His head stuffed with cotton. The smoke that crowded them was warm, comforting, tucking him in as it glittered.The rush of warmth thrummed in Cole’s being, soul consuming—leaving him free to travel the universe.

The room dripped like candlewax, only leaving a void of countless diamond stars against the devouring black. All there was is the velvet press of Dorian’s hands on his body and the sea dust in his veins. Infinity on high—he can reach the sky as the moon sunk into the crashing ocean until it reached across the universe and touched their lips.

He blinked his eyes open and wasn’t ready for the weight of Dorian’s sea deep eyes. He took staccato breath. The sheen of pink dusted across Dorian’s knuckles. Cole took Dorian’s hand in his and licks a wet line across Dorian’s fingers. It burns like standing too close to a fire and tastes like daydreams. _He felt the earth move in his hands, like the trembling heart of a captive bird that was there at his command._ Dorian’s lips are sun hot against his and slick, candy tongue touching his and spit dripping down his chin.

 “I can taste the universe inside you, Dorian.” Cole mumbled.

“That means it’s working then.”

Dorian peeled his own sweat dewed Technicolor robe off and got to work and stripped Cole of his own top leathers before he shifted behind him. He’s pulled against Dorian’s chest and there’s a wash of sparks under his skin where Dorian touched him. His belly tightened. “How do you feel?” he whispered into his ear.

“Dorian, I’m going to burn out and we’ll die and we’ll travel the universe.”

The mage’s mouth was a wet pressure on his temple as he whispered. “Where would we go, love?”

Cole’s knees were weak. “Everywhere, nowhere and the places in between. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re melting together.”

Dorian returned a delighted hum as he traced Cole’s chest, fingering the ties of his tunic. His free hand held the golden tip of the pipe. He brought it to his lips as he undid the ties of Cole’s shirt. Dorian leaned forward, his amber skin shimmered with candlelight. He blew smoke into Cole’s face. Cole breathed in and melted against the mage. Dorian’s finger rubbed circles into the base of his spine. Laughter rung out though it is faded by the steady beat of Dorian’s heart.

The hose is passed away and Dorian brought his hand to Cole’s neck. His eyes fluttered shut as Dorian’s thumb simmered against his lips before his hand slid to the nape of his neck and tugged. Cole whined for Dorian to do it again.

Dorian’s touches were tipped with silk as they slid across Cole’s skin. They turn rough like the skin of tree. The golden slivers that frame the curtained windows slowly faded as Cole sits against Dorian, hands idly touching each other. Dorian’s hand wandered to the hem of Cole’s under shirt, pulling it free before guiding him to the floor. Cole’s skin stuck to the fur as Dorian’s warm breath wet his neck. Cole grasped as Dorian made a slick, hot stripe to Cole’s mouth before pressing a salty kiss to Cole’s lips. He grabbed for Dorian, his hands tangled in the mage’s open smallclothes shirt before touching the mage’s sweat-silky skin. He dug his nails into the flesh there.

Dorian pulled away as he reached for something. The thing slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor. Dorian cursed and turned back to Cole and pulled at his trousers. Cole lifted his hips and they’re pulled only to his knees before Dorian retrieves the thing in question.

Cole’s senses filled with the scent of roses. His body is trained to react to the smell now, his pre-come making a mess against his own abdomen. Dorian’s slick fingers pressed into him and Cole’s head falls back to stare at the winking universe above him. Dorian’s sure fingers didn’t hurt like before. His stomach tightened as Dorian brushed something deep inside him. Dorian is skimming his thighs with kisses and prayed against Cole’s wet skin as Dorian picked up the pace.

Dorian took his fingers away and the pleasure along with it. Cole rubbed his eyes to clear his swimming vision. Dorian slid his own shirt off before he pulled Cole’s trousers free and leaned over, trapping him beneath his solid body.

Dorian pressed into Cole, ringing out a whine from him. His arm curled around Dorian’s neck as Dorian fully seated himself inside him. Dorian’s open trousers scraped Cole’s thighs with each slow rock of his hips. Dorian doesn’t stop as he tangled his fingers in Cole’s sweat matted hair. Cole dug his heels into the small of Dorian’s back.

“I love you.” Dorian said, the declaration almost lost in their panting. 

There’s a wash of sparks under his skin where ever Dorian touched him. His belly tightened as a scrim of stars cover their bodies—it hurt like heaven when Dorian picked up his speed. They weaved through the sands of time. Dorian, Dorian, Dorian, Dorian, Dorian—he doesn’t know if the drowning voice is his, but it’s a sacred chant that goes on until it reaches the corners of the universe. Puffs of dreams against his lips as Dorian breathed in and out against them. Cole wrapped his arms around Dorian’s slick neck and titled his head back while Dorian’s blunt teeth scraped down his vulnerable jugular, leaving rose colored marks on his flesh.

Stardust to stardust, piece by piece, Cole is ripped apart in the best ways. Dorian’s thrusts turned erratic, pushing his cock deep and hard enough to make Cole hiss. He seized, coming with a curse against Cole’s lips. Cole can feel the smile Dorian pressed against his neck before untangling himself from Cole.

Cole isn’t ready to sink back to earth, the groaning of Portia and the slap on slap of skin startled him. He opened his eyes and saw the mage stroking his own softening flesh and watching him with hungry eyes. The mage put his free hand on Cole, gently nudging him to indicate he wanted Cole to sit up. Cole does, his body floating, swaying in the waves of pleasure.

Dorian’s hands goes to his hips as he kissed him again. Cole's eyes flutter closed amongst the rush in his stomach and the mage’s wet mouth on his. Cole moaned into it as he tried to grab onto Dorian but the mage’s hands on his hips pinned him down. Dorian broke the kiss. Cole opened his eyes and saw Dorian looking over his shoulder. Another person’s hands are on his body. He shivered against the cold, unfamiliar touch.

“You’re delightful. It would be a disservice not to share you.” Dorian pressed one last kiss before pulling away from Cole.  Dorian sat before him, legs spread as he touched himself, his storm grey eyes weigh on Cole.

Cole felt Jackson’s or Johnson’s hands run along his sides and rest on his abdomen. The redhead’s teeth scrape at the shell his ear. He shivered against the slick chest against his back. Johnson’s hand wandered until they wrap against Cole’s cock, effectively silencing any objections Cole had. Cole’s mouth falls open as the tight hand stroked his length.

Cole groaned in sick pleasure. He tried to reach for Dorian, but Johnson’s grip tightened around his waist and gave his cock a firm jerk.

“I’m here, love.” Dorian said as he twined his fingers in Cole’s. “Enjoy it.”

The knot in Cole’s stomach faded as Dorian kissed his forehead. Dorian guided Cole’s head to the side and Cole’s lips were claimed by Johnson. Johnson tangled his hand in Cole’s hair to keep him still. Dorian’s teeth scraped the corner of his jaw while Johnson tugged at his bottom lip. There are hands leaving fire hot touches everywhere. He didn’t know which hands were Dorian’s and which were the redhead’s.

Johnson’s blunt nails rake down Cole’s back, tracing his spine before reaching the curve of his bottom. A hand on his shoulder pushes him forward, a pillow placed before his hips. Cole groaned and rutted his needy flesh against the soft velvet before he bit his lip, swallowing the noise in his throat as Johnson presses two fingers inside him. He shut his eyes tight as the fingers open him up before they slid out with a wet sound. Cole gasped as Johnson slammed in, setting a hard pace and forcing a grunt out of Cole with every thrust.

Strong hands curl in the nape of his neck and pull him up until he’s in their lap, a mouth in the corner where Cole’s neck meets his shoulder. With every thrust red strange flowers bloom and die behind his eyelids. He cracks his eye open to see Dorian stroking himself right in front of him, the mage’s member hard and flushed red. Cole felt the black ball of panic in his stomach as he tried to push the other man off but his arms are limp, and his fingers loosely biting into the soft flesh of the persons hips as he sat on them and rode them.

He looked around the melted room to see Portia on her back as Johnson or Jackson nibbled between her legs, her too red mouth against her dark skin parted. Cole seized and shouted as he came, falling to his knees. Jackson or Johnson kept thrusting until he froze after one harsh thrust and filled Cole. Jackson or Johnson left a hand shaped imprint on Cole’s shoulder before pulling out, leaving Cole cold, sweat pebbled and shamelessly open. He collapsed on the floor, his wet cheek melding with the fur there. He rubbed his fingers through it and it was soothing, perfect. Harsh breathing pulsated through Cole’s core until nothingness.

Cole awoke to daylight peeking through the sliver of the black curtain. The room danced and his stomach lurched. His back was pinned to a crusty chest with a harlequin white hand clamped around his waist. Cole looked around the room when it settled to see Dorian slumbering under white fur, sandwiched between Jackson or Johnson and Portia. Cole sat up as straight as an arrow and looked down at the sleeping red head.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Cole’s heart jack-knifed, he balled his fist, and his teeth cut into his bottom lip. “No, not like this. This is wrong. I-I-It’s-this is wrong, it’s sharp.”

The sleepers rose like flowers, getting shakenly to their knees. “Dorian, your toy is broken and I’m not ready to get up.” Portia pulled the fur off Jackson or Johnson and Dorian to cover her breasts.

“Cole, what’s wrong?” Dorian said, watching him with sleep shaded eyes, using Jackson or Johnson to steady himself.

Cole untangled himself from the startled Red head and made a beeline for his own clothes before pulling them on quickly. Dorian got up and pulled on his own trousers before going to tangle his hands in Cole’s mop of hair. “Amatus, what’s wrong?”

“Y-you said you loved me and you let them use me.” Cole whispered under his breath. “I-I-I can’t wash it off. It hurts. It hurts. I love you, it hurts. Why did you do this to me? All I did was love you.”

Dorian took a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry—“

Cole clenched his fist and punched Dorian. A harsh grunt left Dorian as the mage fell backwards into Jackson or Johnson’s arms as Portia screamed.

“I did everything you wanted.” Cole whispered, his voice trembling. “You convinced me that you were a better person than you are and then destroyed me.”

Dorian straightened, a thin line of red ruin leaking down his purpling nose. “Cole, please.”

“You ruined me.” Cole took a deep breath and left the room, pushing the startled patrons out of his way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I'm sorry  
> 2) I'm still working toward a nice ending. This fanfiction has two chapters left and then I'll be free to write other terrible fanfictions.  
> 3) PlushyRobot takes half the blame because she beta'd, wrote the sex scenes, drew the awesome art above and was just an all around enabler. I'm going to dox her for that. Name: Plushyrobot, address: 123 Crimetown, New Jersey, 42069, Job: rodeo clown. Get her.  
> 4) The title is two songs: White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane and White Room by CREAM.  
> 5) _Pour Vous_ means 'For You' in French. Thank you, LaviniaD!  
>  6) _He felt the earth move in his hands, like the trembling heart of a captive bird that was there at his command._ is a basterization of a lyric from "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" as song by Roberta Flack.  
>  7) SHOUT OUT TO LAVINIAD, SINOPE, PLUSHYROBOT AND PINKCOOKIEDOE FOR KEEPING ME COMPANY! YOU GUYS ARE V.I.PS THANK YOU!  
> 8) I'M OUT OF THE HOSPITAL! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOU GUYS CONCERN!!!! YOU GUYS ARE AWEOSME!


	12. Nature Boy

*

_There was a boy_

_A very strange enchanted boy_

_They say he wandered very far_

_Very far, over land and sea_

*

Skyhold was stricken with a creeping paralysis, out of time with the rest of the world, crumbling apart in slow motion. He waited two nights before he began his quest to find his Nature Boy. He travelled the expanse of the battlements, the paper courtyard with its skeleton of roots and trees. He searched every limb of the melting castle, at day when it was dim and at night when it was lit by candles, like a city afloat in the clouds. He swallowed his pride and asked the soul of the castle: Those who knew the strange, enchanted boy the most.  

Sera’s cheeks were smudged a cherry red. Her eyes were glassy and her dream pink lips were swollen as if she’d been chewing on them. Her sunshine gold hair stuck in all directions. She knelt as if she was at an altar as she watched a flaking bile yellow doll house.

Any question about Cole’s whereabouts died on his lips after seeing the imp. “Sera? Dear are you—“

“Joseph is dead.”

“What?”

“He gave it to me to that care of, right, because he was gone a lot with the Inquisitor. And—and I didn’t know Lady was a boy and not a girl and they had babies and Joseph died because of it.”

“Oh, dear.”

“What do I tell him? Shite, he trusted me.” Sera rubbed her dew soaked eyes with the back of her hand. “Shite, shite, shite, shite!”

“Sera, I am truly sorry. I’m certain he will understand.”

“That’s not the point. The point is he trusted me and I let him down.”

Dorian’s stomach dropped at her words. “I know the feeling.”

“What are you on about?”

“About breaking his trust. I—it’s nothing.”

“Andraste, what have I done?”

_What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?_

The imp doesn’t fight or flinch when Dorian takes her tiny hand in his. She just shudders and lets the tears make trails down the apple of her cheeks.

*

_A little shy and sad of eye_

_But very wise was he_

*

The Inquisitor’s desk is covered in a scrim of maps, writings, and books. To the side of it was weapons, concealed and out in the open, swords unsheathed, some practical and some fantastical with ridges that look like dragon teeth. Trevelyan sat in the red throne of a chair in the mist of the organized chaos, reading a leather-bound copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. Dorian knew that if he were to check the inside of the cover, it would read, _‘The Inquisitor’s work is never done. Do take time to read this, it cost more than you’re worth—D.P_.’

Dorian sat the heavy brass key on the edge of the Inquisitor’s desk. The man looked up from his book before he closed it, keeping his place with his thumb.  

 “I was looking for that key.” Trevelyan said.

“Well, I kept it. I thought I was coming back. Silly me.”

The Inquisitor sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “I owe it to you to explain myself.”

“No. I’m not here for that, thankfully.” Dorian said. “I’m here because I’m looking for Cole. Have you seen him?”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t, not since he ran off in Val Royeaux.” The Inquisitor said. “He could be anywhere.”

“Yes, he could.”

“You can ask Varric or Solas. He seems to be closest with them.”

“Ah, I do dread that, but you’re right.” Dorian said. “I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Dorian, wait.” The Inquisitor took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for everything that happened between us.”

“I am as well.”

“I hope you understand that I really do love you. You helped me become a better person.”

 “And now you’re with a better person.”

“Not better, Dorian, just different.”

“Ah, I see, though we could’ve been great.”

“Yes.” The Inquisitor said. “Cole is good for you, though.”

“Yes, well, I’m bad for him”

“Why?”

“No matter, don’t worry yourself over what I said.”

“I understand. It’s private.”

“Yes. Very much so.” Dorian said. “Farewell, Trevelyan. Try not to die. I would notice you were gone.”

The Inquisitor chuckled. “You do the same, Dorian.”

 

*

The great hall was eerie and abandoned at night. There were three dying candles set around the dwarf to stave off the shadows. Varric scribbled away on yellowing paper before stamping the bottoms with candlewax and an emblem Dorian didn’t know. He sat in the hard chair across from the dwarf and waited to be acknowledged.

“So Sparkler, who’s up next on your mattress?” Varric said, not stopping his work.

“Excuse me?”

Varric sat his quill down with more force than usual as he watched Dorian with a hard expression, one he’s not used to seeing on the jovial dwarf’s face. “Whatever you do, it’s usually your business. But all this concerning the kid? It’s mine as well.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, just listen.” Varric said. “He wouldn’t tell me what you did, but he was a mess, Dorian.”

“I see. I only need to speak with him. I want to make it right.”

 “You’ve done enough damage to him. Leave him alone.”

A ton of insults and taunts stuck on Dorian’s tongue. He swallowed them because they would not help him now. They would make the situation worse and he was tired.

Dorian sighed before pushing away from the chair. “You’ve been helpful as always, Varric.”

The dwarf mumbled something before going back to his business.

  
*

After the darkness of the great hall, the low candlelight of the Apostate’s room stabbed his eyes. He pushed down the rising sickness in his stomach and put on a smirk. The elf didn’t move from his spot on the desk as his eyes followed Dorian. Dorian sat on the couch across from him.

“I suppose you know why I’m here.”

“I do. I also know what you did.”

“Ah. You’re going to recount it, aren’t you?”

“No, but I understand he finally saw you for what you were: a leech, an incubus. I was hoping you would have had your fill, but here you are before me.”

“Theatrics. I knew this would be fun.” Dorian said. “Tell me where he is and I will be about my way.”

“Absolutely not. You are hoping to regain your control over him.”

“My, you know me so well.”

“I know your kind.”

“I’m certainly not going to lie. I see now how I treated him was reprehensible. I only ask for a chance to make it right.”

“You cannot.”

“How can you know that?”

 “You do not forgive someone for raping you.” Solas said. The words were a gut punch he couldn’t catch his breath on.

“I see he told you.” He couldn’t stop his voice from faltering. “I—“

“Yes, and even if he wanted to, I would not allow it.”

“How would you stop him? How would you stop me?”

“In any way I could.” Solas said. “You wish to possess him, not to love him. You are not truly remorseful.”

Dorian took a deep breath as he considered this, considered what he had done to Cole. “Perhaps you are right.”

 “Excuse me?”

“I wasn’t coming to take him. I was coming to apologize.” Dorian said. “Farewell, Solas.”

Solas looked as if he were going to say something, anything other than: “Goodbye.”

*

_And then one day, a magic day_

_He passed my way, and while we spoke_

_Of many things, fools and kings_

_This he said to me:_

*

Time in the winter dark, cold room stood still, paralyzed by the silence of night. It was either terribly late or sickeningly early when he awoke. The gutted candle stub wasn’t telling. The water loose sheets pooled around his midsection as he sat against the headboard of the too large bed. His stomach cramped as he tongued the new gaps inside his head. He needed Cole’s body against his, his endless chatter until they became too tired to speak, the velvet soft touch. It was like a limb was torn from him. He couldn’t stop watching the door for Cole, waiting for him to enter.

O, the Prince of Wishful Thinking, O, the King of Shreds and Patches, his yellow-white shag of hair adorned with a wreath of weeds and summer bright flowers. He stood out among the heaven blue sky, the rush of the thin stream, and the shadow of the village and the slow dusk. His rough fingers on the curve of Dorian’s jaw as he presses his lips against Dorian as if he’ll shatter if he kisses too hard.

And Dorian with his own hallow crown which was too heavy with divinity he didn’t deserve, unworthy and dirty with sin as he tried to wash Cole clean with dirty hands. He couldn’t offer anything but an exile kiss.

The exile kiss of a few days ago had been devoid of that innocence and filled with wet desire as Dorian sucked the last of the king’s purity through his sex-salty lips, turning him into a pauper. The sticky press of skin, purple bruises—the betrayal he perpetrated on the boy hurt more than his broken nose.

He pressed his hand against his mouth to stifle the noise but it was too late as his usually dry eyes itched with tears.

*

Iron Bull doesn’t know what it means that he can't sleep with his back turned toward the door. He was always ready, always tense for an unknown attacker, and yet he still slept with his door unlocked like a savage. The Qunari was obviously sleeping off something heavy since he didn’t notice Dorian leaning against his doorframe. The slumbering giant snored like a dying tiger as he covered his own eye against the fading candlelight.

 “Bull?”

Iron Bull grumbled before placing his hand under his pillow and revealing a serrated ten inch blade that glittered in the candlelight. Dorian had seen it many times before, mostly when he pressed too close against the big lummox in the night. Iron Bull sighed when his eye rested on Dorian. He placed the blade down on the bed as he sat up.

 “Vint, if it wasn't for this ale, I could've killed you.” Iron Bull said. “If there weren't two of you—yeah, no; that’s the booze.” He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand.

“I apologize.”

“Huh? When did you get so agreeable?” Iron Bull watched him for a while before he spoke again. “You look terrible.”

 “Yes. I know.”

“Stop this.” Iron Bull said. “Why are you here?”

“I need to ask you something.”      

“Well, what is it?”

Dorian took a shuddering breath. He was sick with isolation. “I used to sleep in my mother’s bed when I was afraid of being alone. When I was too old for that, I went to sleeping with anyone who would touch me, despite the fact I had to…do certain things.”

Iron Bull frowned but didn’t interrupt.

“The sex was good. Usually. Sometimes.” Dorian said. “But it was the afterglow I sought. Their warm body in my grasp. Their heartbeat in my ears. Their arms wrapped around me— until they were done and they…left.”

“This isn’t a question.”

“Why do they always leave?”

The Qunari’s dark eye weighed on him. “Come here.”

“I don’t want to have sex.”

“I wasn’t offering. Come here.” Iron Bull leaned against the headboard. Dorian didn’t trust himself. He loathed the thought that he was empty enough to let Bull take him if it meant a momentary relief from the aching hole Cole left. He sighed and entered the bed and straddled Iron Bull. He wrapped his arms around the Qunari's thick neck. His chest was pressed against the expanse of the Qunari’s. He rode the sea rocking of the giant’s blood warm body and breathed in his sleep-sour breath. He closed his eyes against the rush in his body—the addiction of touch. Iron Bull never allowed this, at least not when Dorian wasn’t in his arms being taken against the wall. He breathed out.

“They always leave.”

“He didn’t.” Iron Bull said. He rested his huge, hot hands on the small of Dorian’s back.

“Yes. He should have. I hurt him.”

“What’d you do?”

“I broke him. In faith and trust and all the ways you can break someone.” Dorian said. “He believed in fairytales and happy endings. That if he loved hard enough and wished even harder, we could have that: a happy ending. Of course, like in all fairytales, there were monsters. What he didn’t know—couldn’t know—is that the monster was me.”

 “Heavy.” Iron Bull said. “You couldn’t let his love for you go unpunished, huh?”

“Bull.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.” Iron Bull said. “Do you plan on making things right with the kid?”

“No. I just want to find him so I can apologize. I don’t deserve him.”

“Yeah,” Iron Bull said. “Maybe later?”

“Later?”

“Maybe you’ll deserve him later. If you don’t like who you are, change.”

 “It’s not that simple.”

“It is. I went from being Ben-Hassrath to a Tal-Vashoth in an hour. And you know what? I don’t regret it.” Iron Bull said. “All you need to do is stop being afraid of the unknown. For you that means trying to give back or something.”

“Of course. For all my attributes, it’s hard for me to remember such truths.” Dorian smiled. “Now when did you become so soft?”

“I guess we’re both full of surprises.” Iron Bull said. “Yeah, but I saw him creeping on the battlement near Cullen’s office about three hours ago. He’s probably still there, staring at something none of us can see.”

Dorian closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Iron Bull’s lips. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Iron Bull said as he patted him on the back. “Let’s not make a thing out of this.”

“Yes, that would be undesirable, wouldn’t it?” Dorian said He chuckled before untangling himself from the horned giant. He began to walk out the door before Iron Bull spoke again. “I did love you, though. I should’ve held you tighter.”

“I, hmm. I didn’t know. You never let us be anything. You pushed me away.”

“Yeah, I don’t dwell on mistakes.” Iron Bull said. “You wouldn’t want to begin again even if I asked, huh?”

“No.”

“So you really do love him. Never thought I'd see the day. My girl, all grown up.”  

“There we are. Back to your usual savage self.”  Dorian couldn't stifle his breath caught chuckle. “Why do I bother?”

Iron Bull smiled. “I love you too.”

*

_"The greatest thing you'll ever learn_

_Is just to love and be loved in return"_

*

The winter winds caressed goosebumps into his skin. The scarecrow thin boy sat on the rim of the world, where stonemeets infinity, with all the grace of an acrobat. He watched endless nothing. The abyss and the boy understood each other. Each of them so mysterious and unknown that it’d take a thousand years to know him, to _really_ know him, though even that might not be enough. Dorian didn’t know if he could approach him. If he was worthy after introducing the boy to love, lust, and trust—then hurting him when it was too much to shoulder.

“Cole.”

The boy didn’t flinch. He didn’t turn. “You’re free to flutter, Dorian. Please leave.”

“Cole, I’m sorry—“

“How much I wanted you. It was wrong. I was wrong.” Cole said. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“I adore you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“I do, Cole.”

“Stop.”

“I was a monster.”

“So was I.” Cole said. “Only monsters love monsters.”

“You weren’t one. I hurt you. I want a chance to make it right.”

“No. I can’t survive it.”

“I need you.”

Dorian took three steps toward Cole before the boy said ‘stop’ without ever turning around to face him. He stood there, his smallclothes not protecting him from the bitter night. He swallowed thickly.

“You are different than anyone I have ever met. You love with every breath. You’re everything I’m not. Everything I aspire to be and I…well, I—“ _ ~~Love you~~_. “Adore you.”

“Why are you saying this now?”

“I didn’t know I needed you then. I didn’t know what it felt like to be loved until you. Every one of my paramours came with a price or strings like I was their very own marionette. My father didn’t love me unconditionally. Trevelyan didn’t. Bull didn’t. Jackson and Johnson didn’t. Any sod I’d shared my bed with in the past ten fucking years didn’t. You did. You do, I think.”

“I do.” Cole’s shoulders slumped. “But you love that I love you. Solas was right and I can’t be that for you anymore.”

“Cole, you were— _you are_ —more than a coping mechanism. It may have started out that way but you grew on me like very determined dandelions. You accepted all of me, not just the pretty parts, although there are a lot of those. I was afraid of things getting dangerous again. I was afraid of my feelings for you so I broke you before you could do the same to me. It was selfish. I apologize.”

 “Is that why you let them hurt me?”

“I—yes. There is no excuse for what I’ve done. I should have asked you.”

 “I would’ve said no.”

“Yes, yes, you would have.” Dorian said. “I am so sorry.”

 “I will die this time or I’ll hurt you and it’ll be worse. I can’t.”

“If I ever hurt you like this again, I will deserve death.”

The silence hung in the air. Dorian’s chest tightened.

“Dorian.”

“Yes?”

“I want to believe you.”

“Believe me, Amatus. I will spend the rest of my existence trying to convince you.” Dorian walked up behind the tense, thin boy and wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulders while putting his chin on the crown of his thin straw hair, gleaming white in the dark night. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sage, otherworldly scent of the boy. The boy’s cold fingers gripped Dorian’s wrist as they breathed in time. “You don’t have to answer me now, though, think on it? I will respect any answer you give.”

“Yes. I will…think.” Cole said. He took a shuddering breath before. “Joseph died.”

“I know.”

“She had babies.” Cole said. “It’s nice and I will love them though I will miss her still.”

 “I know, Amatus. I know.” Dorian said. “I love you, Cole.”

“I hope so, for both our sakes.” Cole said before breathing out. “ _Festis bei umo canavarum.”_

*

_"The greatest thing you'll ever learn_

_Is just to love and be loved in return"_

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The title and italicized lyrics of this chapter is from the song 'Nature Boy' by Nat King Cole.  
> 2) The phrase "Exile Kiss" is from Coriolanus, by William Shakespeare: "O! a kiss / Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!" (Act V, scene 3).  
> 3) "The King of Shreds and Patches" is from Hamlet.  
> 4) “Festis bei umo canavarum.” means "you will be the death of me" in Tevene. It's something Dorian says to Cole in the game.  
> 5) Shout out to Plushy.Robot for betaing and like doing other, sexy things.  
> 6) I'm almost crying thinking about the new friends I made while writing this fanfic. I'm sad that it's coming to an end soon but: [](http://photobucket.com/)


	13. Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking

The _Exordium et Terminus_ was a sprawling ark guided by heaven white sails and a dozen crewmen. The Waking Sea and the endless sky were bound by a gloom of gold as the sun sank into the ocean and laid claim to another maw dark night—their second one. The horizon rose and sank in a soothing cradle rock while Cole laid upon the soggy wood of the deck and watched the stars come out of the wine dark evening sky. Dorian was fast asleep in one of the cabins. Cole had come to lay on the deck because his mind was too fractured to sleep. The air scattered his thoughts. It was the night of rebirth. 9:43 Dragon. The Skyhold towers were etched into his mind. He wanted to always remember the kingdom on top of everywhere, where he became flesh.

oOo

The faded painting day bloomed into a rose petal red evening. The citizens of Skyhold moved through the motions with their blinders on despite the fairytale bright day. An invisible tempest swept their haven. Corypheus. The battle for Thedas was nigh.

Cole couldn't help them. He lay in ~~Dorian’s~~ their bed and watched the red sky bleed through the cracks in the ceiling. He felt like he was carved out of stone. Dorian had tried to get him to talk or move for the better part of the day. He took care of Cole’s every need while Cole was entombed by despair.

“Can you sit up for me?” Dorian asked him. The mage palmed Cole’s jaw and ran the pad of thumb across Cole’s mouth. He didn’t move when Dorian pushed past his lips and pressed his thumb against the slick front of Cole’s teeth.

Cole took a deep breath.

“You looked me in the eyes. I’ll call that an improvement.” Dorian’s smile was strained. He slid his thumb out, leaving a trail of spit from the corner of Cole’s mouth. “Please get up, Amatus. I have to show you something.”

“I can’t.” Cole said. Dorian sighed before taking Cole’s hand in his. He rubbed Cole’s palm with his thumb before slipping a too big ring on Cole’s finger. The band was gold and had a fade green stone embedded in the middle.

"I want you to hold this for me just in case something goes south, which it always does, mind you. It's—

"The family engagement ring. It's passed down to each heir on their wedding day. You stole it to make a mockery of inheritance but now you're worried that it fits."

“You could’ve just said: ‘yes, Dorian, I’ll hold it!’”

Cole put his hands on his own stomach. “Why do you want me to?”

“Well, believe it or not, it’s important to me and you’re the least likely to die. For all we know you could be immortal.”

“Oh.” Cole watched the ring shimmer in the dying day. “Is this because of Corypheus?”

“Yes. There is very little chance for survival and this ring, this silly little ring, is all I have left of my birthright. I would hate to lose it."

“I will protect you.”

“I can hold my own, Amatus. This is just in case. You can give it back to me after.”

“I—yes. I love you, Dorian.” Cole reached up and cupped Dorian’s jaw.

Dorian smiled. “I love you too, Cole.”

oOo

The storm of ash burned his eyes. He wandered through motes of bone and cinder—the snow of the dead. His coughs were muted under the ringing in his ears. The world was glaucoma grey. He couldn’t see his dirty hands in front of his face. The murk paled into grit and then blew into dust. The desolate mountain of decay became real.

Dorian sat against a gravestone of a rock with his head bowed as if he was in prayer. He was bathed white by the pale ash. It crumbled in his hair like a broken halo. He was an angel of grief, an effigy of despair.

“Dorian.” He knelt down to the mage. His heart beat against his chest as he cupped under Dorian’s jaw and tipped the mage’s face up. Dorian blinked awake as if a spell had been broken. His eyes were too blue against his clay face.

“Amatus. You’re alive. Good on you.” He said hoarsely.

Cole smiled as tension bled from him. “It’s over.”

“Yes.” Dorian put his arm in the crook of Cole’s neck. Cole got the hint and worked his own arm under Dorian’s to help him up. Dorian’s knee was bent out of true, his staff was broken and the mage had a few other things cracked but otherwise he was fine.

“You’re not hurt. I’m pleasantly surprised.” Dorian said.

“I’m hurt. I just don’t want to look it.”

“Of course.”

The curtain of fog crested before lifting its veil. Cassandra and the Inquisitor embraced beyond it, twirling slowly like figures in a tarnished music box. They were out of time with the sound and fury of animated cheering soldiers.

Sera’s tears left muddy streaks down her dirt baptized face. Varric picked up Bianca’s pieces. Iron Bull rubbed the nub where his horn had been. Vivienne combed her fingers through Blackwall’s dirt matted hair as he laid his head in her lap. Cole carried Solas’s absence like Atlas carried the world.

“We didn’t lose anyone.” Dorian said.

“Except for everyone. A lot of the soldiers are gone but they are protecting and proud in another place.”

“Oh. I see. You’re right. I’m sorry, Amatus.”

“I will plant a tree for each one.”

“Thank the Maker.” Cassandra said when she saw them. She untangled herself from the Inquisitor and came to stand before them. “Dorian, are you hurt badly?”

“Well, in lieu of almost being trampled by an arch demon, I’m splendid.” Dorian said. He moved from Cole to stand on his own. “Yourself?”  
  
“I am fine.” She said. She smiled and wrapped her arms around Dorian. Dorian rubbed her back. She threw her arms around Cole next. “And you, Cole?”

“I am good.” Cole said. "Solas is gone."

Cassandra pulled back. "You don't mean—"

"No."

"He means Solas left.” Dorian said.

Cassandra sighed in relief. "I see. We will speculate on that when we get to Skyhold."

Cole nodded. The smoke cleared to reveal a polished sky with no green scars. He took in the beauty right before Sera jumped in his arms.  

oOo

“That was special.” Dorian breathed out. The Inquisitor’s bedroom was dark except for the momentary flash-color of fireworks blooming and fading outside of the Inquisitor’s balcony. Dorian stretched under him and slid his damp palm down Cole’s back. “You are special.”

Cole brushed his lips against Dorian’s nose for the barest of seconds. “I like you too. Can we do it again?”

“Yes. I’m glad I’m not the only hedonist in this relationship.”

“What?”  
  
“You never explained why you wanted to make love in our illustrious Inquisitor’s bedroom.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not getting an answer, am I?” Dorian made a broken sound when Cole pushed in. Cole propped Dorian’s knees up with his thighs to gain more leverage. He groaned when he slid in deep enough to bottom out. Dorian tipped his head back against the pillow and reached up to grip the headboard. The bed rocked and thudded with every tilt of his hips. Cole slowed and tilted as best he could to plant a kiss on Dorian’s lips. Cole rocked into him harder as Dorian groaned out unintelligible curses. Cole moved his hips faster and slipped his hand between them and wrapped it around Dorian’s cock. For a long time they were in their own universe with only the crackling fireworks raining down dream colors in the dark room, their harsh breathing, the knocking of the headboard against the wall and the muted cheers underneath them.

Dorian tangled his hand in Cole’s hair before spilling into Cole’s hand. Cole lasted a little longer and came with Dorian’s name on his lips. He tipped forward and planted sloppy kisses all over Dorian’s face. Dorian chuckled as he pulled away.

“I love you.” Cole said breathlessly. “Do you love me?”

Dorian ran his fingers through Cole’s hair. “ _Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love_.”

“What?”

“It’s from _Hamlet_. I take it you haven’t been reading the plays I gave you.”

“No.”

“Never matter.” Dorian said. “It means that I love you, even though I don’t always say it.”

“Oh.”

“I will work on saying it more, love, because I do indeed love you. It’s just…I’m not used to it yet.”

“I will wait then.”

“You are too good to me, Amatus. It’s frightening, really.” Dorian said. “Though you needn’t wait. I love you, Cole.”

They left the room before the Inquisitor found them. Dorian didn’t take his ring back.

oOo

The majesty of clouds around the fallen sun bled the skies above the hill. The bitter breeze stung his cheeks. They sat on a fallen tree, conflicting with vines. He placed his bare feet on the dew studded grass. It was real under him. All things in this world are finite. He was whole.

Dorian placed his hand on Cole’s. “Amatus?”

“Thank you.”

Dorian had woke him up early and took him to the hill where they met Joseph. Cole could tell that Dorian wasn’t mourning in the same way he was (or at all) but the mage held back on the teasing and talked with him.

Dorian smiled. “It’s fine. Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.”

“We can stay here as long as you want to, Cole.”

oOo

Cole awoke to the press of lips on his temple in the predawn dark. The mage’s chest was pressed to Cole’s back. His strong arm was clasped around Cole’s waist. Cole stretched and turned on his back. He watched Dorian in the hazy dark.

“Hello.” Cole said.

Dorian smiled and thumbed Cole’s bangs out of his eyes. “Only you would be so cordial about being woken up in the wee hours of the morning.”

“Yes.” Cole twined his fingers through Dorian’s. His stomach sank. Something was amiss. He could see it but he couldn’t comprehend it. “You want things.”

“I do, yes. Though it can wait until light, Amatus. I apologize for waking you.”

“No. I want to hear what’s in your head.”

“If you insist, love.” Dorian took a deep breath. “I need to ask you something.”

Cole pulled the mage’s rough hands to his cheek and waited.

“As you know, my life has been filled with people who didn’t love me or didn’t accept me. It’s made me insecure in matters of the heart and I’m afraid of you. You accept me and you love me. Maker knows why. I’ve been horrible to you but you love me.”

“I would die for you.”

“My concern isn't that you would die for me, Cole. My concern is can you live with who I am?”

“I don't understand.”

“I can't live without you, Cole.”

“Dorian?”

“The anniversary of Corypheus’s defeat is upon us. Can you fathom that? It’s been a year and I, well, I must follow through with my promises. A man is only as good as his word.” Dorian took a deep breath. “I need you to come with me to the Imperium.”

“Leave? But what about Trevelyan and Sera and Varric and The Iron Bull? Our friends?”

“I will miss them though I vowed to change the Imperium for the better.” Dorian sighed. “It’s something I must do. They will understand my departure though yours? They’ll try to stop yours.”

“Dorian.”

“Amatus, I have booked passage on a ship leaving from Storm Coast in two weeks. We have to leave now so we won’t miss it.” Dorian sat up. “I apologize for it being on such short notice though if I didn’t book passage now, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Now?” Cole sat against the headboard as well. His chest tightened.

“Yes. Before they awake. I was never one for long goodbyes.”

“I want to say goodbye.

“So, that means you’re coming with me?”

“Yes. I want to say goodbye.”

“Thank you, I—“

“Dorian. I want to say goodbye.”

“Amatus.” Dorian rubbed his temples. “How about this: We leave this evening after one more dinner with our…friends. I’m certain they’re having some sort of garish anniversary celebration.”

“They won’t know and I want to say goodbye.”

"Could you do it in your funny little way then?"

They taught him how to be human. The city in the clouds bound together by faith. Their leader sits on a throne of compassion. The inhabitants didn’t need him as much anymore but he was loved there, even if they never said it. It was shown as bright as the Maker’s light.

_“Now in a moment I know what I am for—I awake, and already a thousand singers—a thousand songs, clearer, louder and more sorrowful than yours, a thousand warbling echoes have started to life within me and never to die.”_

“Perfect.”

oOo

The Fortress’s hall was alight with hundreds of candles and packed with soldiers, citizens, and nobles. The fireworks exploded outside while fiddles played on the inside. It was a ballet of enchantment, dancing to no particular tune.

“I know you’re all just biting back your complements on how charming and well-dressed I am but I have something to say first: You’re all not any of those things and why I bother to be seen with you lot is still a mystery.” Dorian sat near the end of the banquet table. He raised a glass to them before drinking it. Dorian’s smile was bright but only Cole knew the mage was breaking on the inside.

“You kiss the kid with that ‘impolite’ mouth?” Iron Bull asked.  
  
“Among other things.” Dorian said.

“Hey, I’m trying to eat my dinner, not lose it.” Varric said.

“Cole’s a man now.” Iron Bull threw his arm over Varric’s shoulder. “They grow up so fast.”

“Absolutely.” Dorian said. “I assure you gentlemen that he’s in very good hands. You should see what I do to him with them.”

Varric sighed. “Yeah, I have officially lost my appetite.”

Cole sat near the other end of the table. His plate was heaping with foods he couldn’t identify. Vivienne sat next to him. Next to her was Blackwall.

“I’m certain you wouldn’t be able to get enough if you were to try it, my dear.” Vivienne said. “I slaved over this all day.”

“I don’t eat.” Cole stirred the sweet potatoes with his fork. Vivienne frowned and untangled her hand from Blackwall’s. She picked up her spoon. Only she could make a utensil look like a weapon. She dug it into her potatoes and pressed it against Cole’s lips.

“Open wide or I’ll get my dear Gordon to pry your mouth open.” Her eyes held a playful spark.

“I have a feeling I’d be pulling back a bloody nub if I were to listen to you, my love.” Blackwall said.

Cole took the spoon in his mouth. The sweetness was too much but he wouldn’t tell Vivienne that. The enchantress looked at him expectantly.

“I like it.” Cole said.

Vivienne beamed. “See, Gordon? I’m always right.”

“Hm.” Blackwall agreed through a mouthful of food.

Sera bumped his knee from under the table. She was snickering, not on the outside but on the inside. Josephine and Cullen sat to the right of him. They were engrossed in their conversation while Sera tied Josephine’s dress to Cullen’s bootstraps.

Cassandra and Trevelyan sat beside Josephine. They were each telling their stories about how they cheated death with Corypheus to a gaggle of noblewomen. Cole was happy with sadness. He was the only one hurting for once.

“My face didn’t fit. I felt wrong, wrought and weighted down. Fading in the fade.” Cole’s voice was hidden under the jovial noise. “You all took me out of the cupboard dark and into the Maker’s light. You all anchored me there. Thank you. Thank you and goodbye.”

oOo

The bundle of vagrants caged their eyes against the icy downpour of the Storm Coast. They all wore black like they were at a wake. Cole and Dorian were now pilgrims amongst others. The sword grey morning melted with the iron dark sea. Their ark is tiny on the horizon.

He could still go back to Skyhold. He could convince Dorian come back with him. He could be with Sera, Trevelyan, Cassandra, Varric, Iron Bull, Vivienne, Blackwall—he could be with them again. His eyes itched with something other than rain. He rubbed them with the heel of his hands.

“Cole, are crying? I can’t tell because of the rain.” Dorian said. He cupped Cole’s cheek and watched him intently.

Cole watched the ground. “I don’t know.”

 “You are.” Dorian sighed. “Amatus, I need you to be strong.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”  
  
“No, Cole, I’m sorry.” Dorian said. “Let’s call this off and go back to our friends. What say you?”

 “No. We will go.” Cole said. “You want to help people. I do to. A purpose for a people. A people for a purpose. That’s what we are.”

“I do hate seeing you like this.”

“We must go. We can help more people like this.”

Dorian pressed their lips together. “You make me so happy.”

 “You make me happy too.”

“That’s good. Mutual happiness is what we should strive for.”

“But keep your promises.”

“I intend to. Furthermore, I have you to keep me honest. I don’t want to wake up with a knife in my back.”

“I use daggers. They are different.”

“I, um—oh.” Dorian pulled back. Cole smiled despite the sinking in his chest.

“You were joking. Hilarious.” Dorian said flatly.  “Now, I bought you an overcoat for a reason. Wear it.”

oOo

The passengers collected at the bow of the ark. Cole got up from his spot on the deck and followed the other migrants. The dim shore of Minrathous rose and fell as grey sea birds flew coastwise. Smaller boats trudged past them in the black waters, silent and dark, like coffins adrift. The wind was raw and the docks were alight with candles so far off they looked like fireflies. The docks were alive with the shadowed agony of the slave dock workers. Cole’s stomach cramped. Slaves. He knew there would be slaves. Their hurt touched his and he wasn’t even close.

“Nostalgic, nauseous, and knowing. The puppet becomes the master. What strings will he pull?” Cole said. Dorian’s hot hands held Cole’s sides. The mage was solid and whole behind him.

“Well, ‘boo’ anyway, I suppose.” Dorian said. His breath held the sourness of the morning. “What a lovely coastline. Kind of makes you want to wretch, yes?”

“No?”

“It does. I know you don’t go in for all that slavery business.” Dorian said. “Though I’m certain you have all the disgustingly adorable things to say about adventure, romance, and the excitement of eloping.”

 “Eloping?”

“Well, it’s technically not eloping but I’ll explain later.” Dorian said. “This must be all shiny and majestic in your eyes. Say something romantic.”

“You have a garden growing out of the darkest parts of you.”

 Dorian sighed. “You’re missing the hint. I want you to compliment me.”

“Oh.” Cole said. “You have eyes.”

“Beautiful.” Dorian hummed. “So, I did some thinking last night and I found the perfect way to announce my return: I will kick my father’s door open whist carrying you over my shoulder like a hunting trophy. That alone will be too much for the old man but when he hears about my heroics? He will shit himself from shock.”

 “That’s…good?”

“It will be glorious, Amatus.” Dorian said. “And after, we’ll settle in, break in the bed, and then I suppose you’ll peck at me until I find some sort of way to employ my slaves so they won’t actually be slaves.”

“Yes.”

 “A warning, Cole, when my slaves become nine to fivers, you’ll be getting my tea at three am.”

“No.”

“Is that insolence? I didn’t know you had it in you.” Dorian kissed his temple. Cole’s chest filled with a warm light as he leaned back onto Dorian. “I will never be able to make this up to you. Throwing everything away and coming with me was incredibly selfless. All of my past paramours wouldn’t even be seen in public with me. Thank you, Amatus. I love you.”

Cole smiled and turned to face the mage. Dorian was angelic in a cream tunic embroidered with a gold dragon detail and a deep neck showing his clavicle. His pendant was held together by string. The silver chain of the pendent had long broken and Dorian had fashioned it as a makeshift necklace for Cole to put the Heirloom engagement ring on. It hung heavy around Cole’s neck. Dorian’s hair played with the wind that rolled off the ocean. His face was bare and under eyes were bruised with sleepiness. His smile was genuine, broken but sincere.  

 ”Thank you.” Cole said.

Dorian laughed before tilting his forehead against Cole’s. “I walked right into that.”

*

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The title of this chapter is from the Walt Whitman poem of the same name.  
> 2) Cole's italic quotes are from the aforementioned poem.  
> 3) I battled myself over whether I should post this or not because I liked the ambiguous ending of chapter twelve but here it goes. It's unbeta'd because everyone is busying having lives. I hope it's not too cheesy/riddled with errors. You can pretend the fanfiction ended at chapter twelve because I will.  
> 4) I'm soo happy you guys encouraged me to take this fanfiction past chapter one!!!!! It was really amazing to write and I met sooo many sweet people through it!! Sooo many new friends--Plushyrobot, Sinope, LaviniaD!!! And even just by just joining the fandom I made a new friend--Electriczombie. I was in a deep depression when I started this fanfiction but writing it and reading your words of encouragement in the comments just lifted me up. I owe you guys like, so many egg mcMuffins. Goodbye, friends! AND THANK YOOUUU.  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I don't know if I should continue or leave it as a one-shot.  
> 2) The title of the entire work is named after a performance piece by Joseph Beuys.  
> 3) The title of this chapter is named after "The Kiss", a sculpture by Auguste Rodin.  
> 4) The italicized phrases are from the Song of Solomon.


End file.
